Learning To Live
by autumn midnights
Summary: Multi-chapter. Although Voldemort and the Death Eaters are long gone, the next generation of witches and wizards still has things to worry about. Being a Weasley-Potter is difficult enough at times; throw in romance, friendships, rising Dark forces, school, and jobs, and the 2022-2023 school year isn't going to be an easy one. Various pairings, including Scorrose and VicTeddy.
1. Victoire - September

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I won't own Harry Potter in any future chapters, either; this disclaimer applies to the entire fic, so that I do not have to write a disclaimer on every chapter. _

_Written for the Weekly Updater Competition, Long Haul Competition, 100K Multi-chapter Competition, and Prove Me Wrong Competition. _

_To clear things up, this will focus on all of the next-generation's Weasley-Potters, along with their friends and romantic interests, over the course of one school year. The story takes place five years after the Epilogue; to put it in context, Lily Luna Potter is fourteen at the start of the story, and Teddy Lupin is twenty-four. Although the story is filed under RoseScorpius, there is certainly more to the story than the ScorpiusRose relationship; there are many other pairings, and many other characters, but ScorpiusRose will definitely play a major part. The story is filed under Scorrose simply so that it does have character tags, allowing people to actually find it._

_I would also like to note that you may want to pay attention to the date at the start of each chapter; since the story is told from a different point of view each chapter, there is a chance that two consecutive chapters may take place on the same day, or something of the sort. _

_I sincerely hope you all enjoy the story._

* * *

_September 1st, 2022_

Victoire Lupin's gaze flicked to the clock for what must have been the fifteenth time that night. It was now eight o'clock, and while that was not particularly late in the general sense, it was late for Teddy to arrive home. He worked until six-thirty on a pretty consistent basis, and he was usually good at contacting her the few times that he had to work a significant amount of time past that. She felt simultaneously worried about him and annoyed with him; either something bad had happened, something urgent had come up, or he had simply lost track of time. Knowing the Auror Office - and knowing Teddy Lupin - it could be any one of those three things.

Her stomach growled; she had not eaten supper yet, as she always waited for her husband to arrive home. Thinking the word 'husband' still gave her a certain thrill, and a quick smile crossed over her face. She had loved Teddy since she was little, apart from a brief period during Hogwarts when she found herself interested in other boys. When she was sixteen, however, Teddy had become her primary focus again, and they had started dating the summer before her seventh year. She couldn't think of anybody that she cared about more than Teddy, and the thought made her eyes flick to the clock again. He wasn't usually this late - surely, something had to be wrong. _Eight-oh-one. _

She was tempted to Floo the Auror Office and ask somebody what had happened. There were certain privileges to being the spouse of an Auror, and there were even more privileges that came with being a Weasley-Potter. Nobody would have dared tell Victoire Lupin - the child of war heroes in their own right, not to mention the niece of the Head of the Auror Office - that she was breaking protocol. She knew how the Auror Office worked enough to know that although they wouldn't have given her details - even her name and her relationship wouldn't grant her that - about Teddy's assignment, they would have told her whether or not he was okay.

Victoire probably would have ended up Flooing them, if the door hadn't opened, and Teddy stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He looked tired, but seemed unhurt, and Victoire breathed a quiet sigh of relief before placing her hands on her hips. "Are you all right? You didn't Floo, and I was getting worried about you."

"I'm sorry." Teddy pulled Victoire close to him, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head before moving down to her lips. "The Auror Office has their hands full - everything that's going on with the Circle of Darkness, you know? They're getting bigger and bigger, and we fear that it's going to be like...well, like how the Death Eaters were. There's already been a few murders and disappearances, and there's a chance it could just get worse and worse."

Victoire frowned. "Have the Aurors even managed to catch anyone who's a member? I haven't heard anything."

Teddy sighed, closing his eyes for a few seconds. It was obvious to Victoire that the lack of arrests was a bit of a sore spot with him, and probably a sore spot with the rest of the Auror Office as well. She couldn't picture the Aurors taking such a thing lightly. "No," Teddy said. "They're not as obvious as the Death Eaters were. As far as we know, they don't have any marks or tattoos like that, and they've never ran into any Aurors. The few murders that we can attribute to them were all done without witnesses."

"Then how can-" Victoire started to ask how they could know it was the Circle of Darkness if there were no witnesses, but Teddy cut her off.

"Can't tell you that," he said, wiggling out of his outer robes and dropping them on the top of the coat rack. "That's classified for now. I can't tell you _everything_, after all." He smiled at her, in an obvious attempt to let her know that he wasn't trying to be mean about it, and gave her another kiss. "How was your day, Vic?"

Victoire shrugged. "I went to St. Mungo's, to see if any new spots had opened up for a mind-Healer, but they still don't have anything." She led Teddy into the kitchen and started heating up the food that had gotten cold. "I don't know where else to apply. I asked Professor Clearwater the other day if she might consider hiring me for the Hogwarts students, but she said it was unnecessary, that it isn't this generation that I should be worrying about." She shook her head. "I respect Penelope Clearwater, but that seems ignorant to me. We haven't been through a war - yet," she added grimly, "but that doesn't mean everybody in our generation is perfectly stable."

Teddy snagged a sliver of chicken as the plate passed by his head, popping the piece into his mouth. Victoire rolled her eyes at him. "Try talking to somebody other than Clearwater," he said. "I'm sure some of the others will agree that having a mind-Healer at Hogwarts is a good idea. Susan Bones is a wonderful Healer, but you know she only handles the physical stuff. The students don't have anyone professional to talk to if they're having problems. I'm sure...ah, what's her name, damn it." He paused for a second, looking pensive, and then snapped his fingers. "MacDougal, the Defense professor. She'd agree with you, no doubt."

"Professor Clearwater is the Headmistress of Hogwarts," Victoire replied. "If she says no, there's really nothing else I can do. I can't pester the woman. And," she added before Teddy could continue, "I'm not going to go beneath her and talk to all of the other professors, either. I don't want to use 'But everyone else agrees with me' as an argument for why I should get a position there." She slid a plate of food in front of Teddy, placing another one on the table and sitting down, starting to eat as well. "I'm sure I'll find something - mind-Healers are becoming more respected now. Twenty years ago, barely anyone had even heard of the profession."

There was a brief silence as they both ate; it was late, after all, and they were both hungry. Teddy had finished his first plate and gone back for more around the same time Victoire was halfway done with her first plate, and when they had both finished - around the same time, unsurprisingly enough - Teddy leaned back in his chair. Victoire always felt like he was going to fall backwards, but he never had yet. "You know," he said, "it still feels a little strange that it's September first, and we're sitting at home. I know it's been years, but still...I dunno."

Victoire nodded. "I feel old. James, Roxie, and Molly are leaving Hogwarts at the end of this year."

Teddy shuddered. "James Potter and Roxanne Weasley are going to be let loose on the real world. That's a scary thought, you know."

"And can you believe Lily is fourteen? She's going to be dating people."

Teddy held up his hand. "I don't want to hear about my little sister dating anybody, thank you very much. I'm with James on that. Lily can wait until she's of age to date. Mainly because I'm never at Hogwarts or Hogsmeade, so I have no access to her boyfriends."

"Lily would hex you in the balls if you dared intimidate any of the people she fancied," Victoire said bluntly. "And she would probably succeed, as well - oh, don't make that big bad Auror face. Leave Lily alone - she's old enough to go out with people if she wants. If I recall, you and Kiara started going out at the beginning of third year, and considering that you were caught in a broom closet together-"

Teddy's face was a violent shade of pink; he blushed just as easily as most of the Weasley-Potters. "That was over ten years ago."

"Oh, I'm not jealous. I'm just pointing out that you started even younger than Lily - and yes, I know for a fact that Lily hasn't done anything, because I'm a girl, and she's a girl, and therefore we can have that sort of conversation together." Victoire brushed a strand of strawberry-blonde hair back from her face. "_Anyway. _To think - everyone's at the opening feast right now, eating and catching up with their friends. James is probably terrorizing the first years."

"And Roxanne is probably helping him," Teddy pointed out, levitating the dishes so that they flew neatly into the sink. "Lily's probably plotting something, Lucy's writing in that book she carries everywhere, and Molly's being a prefect."

"Head Girl," Victoire corrected. Teddy's expression changed to one of surprise. "You didn't know? Molly got Head Girl. Uncle Percy's been telling it to anyone with a set of ears, and even that's not really a requirement."

"I haven't seen Uncle Percy in a while," Teddy said. "You know I missed the end-of-summer party." He stared out the kitchen window, and his hair, almost unconsciously, got darker. "The Auror Office is struggling. Even though we have a decent amount of people, it's still difficult. It's not just the Circle of Darkness making trouble, but it's people being paranoid about the Circle and doing crazy things. Some woman suspected her brother of being a member, and they got into a duel in the middle of Diagon Alley."

"Was anyone hurt?"

"Apart from the two of them? Nah. Auror Vane happened to be in Diagon Alley at the time, and she managed to break it up and take them into custody." He absentmindedly played with a loose string on his sleeve. "Sometimes I wish we were back at Hogwarts, you know? Everything was so much easier."

Victoire nodded, flashing back to her own Hogwarts days. Teddy and Victoire had been close, as expected, along with Freddie and Dominique; Freddie was in the year below Victoire, and Dominique the year below him. The four of them had been mostly inseparable while they were all at Hogwarts together. Victoire had loved Hogwarts. The Weasley-Potters were relatively popular around the school, especially in the early years when having a Weasley-Potter there had been a novelty, and not a common occurrence like it was now. Victoire had made friends with the girls in her dormitory, and it seemed that she always had somebody to talk to. She had done decently well enough in her classes to enjoy them somewhat, as well, and on the whole, Hogwarts had been an amazing experience.

She had gone through a brief period in fifth year of being impatient to get to the real world, due in part to the excessive pressure put on the OWL students, but now that she was in the real world, she agreed with Teddy. Hogwarts was easier. There was no worry about finding a job and paying the bills, no worry about whether or not the person that she loved had gotten hurt on an Auror mission...no adult problems in general. It had been immature, simpler things - whether or not her essay was satisfactory, whether or not she wanted to do more than kiss with her boyfriend, whether or not to go to Hogsmeade instead of studying. They had seemed like major problems at the time, but now, they seemed like bliss, incredibly simple compared to her life now.

"Do you think the Aurors will succeed?" she asked suddenly. "I mean, will the Circle of Darkness fall?"

"Good always triumphs," Teddy said, but he didn't seem completely sincere as he spoke. Faces flashed in Victoire's mind, faces she had only seen in photographs. Fred. Remus. Tonks. Uncle Harry's parents. Albus Dumbledore. Severus Snape. Maybe it was true that good always triumphed - emphasis on _maybe _- but it wouldn't be without some losses.

"I worry about you, Teddy," she said softly. "You're an Auror. You're in the thick of this - every day, every time you go to work, you're in danger." He opened his mouth to speak, but Victoire continued. "And I don't want to lose you. You know I love you, Teddy. I want to raise a family with you. I want to live to be a hundred and thirty, but with you by my side."

Teddy clasped her hand in his. "I'll be careful, Vic. We haven't lost any of our Aurors to the Circle yet, and we certainly don't plan to, either. I don't think they're ready for any major attacks yet. They need information first, and as far as we know, they don't have too much information on the inner workings of the Aurors. We're being very tight with security - random checks are being done on everybody, and so far, nobody's been thought of as a secret Circle member."

"So far," Victoire said darkly.

"I know it's scary," Teddy said reassuringly. "I know. Hell, I worry about _you, _since you're alone in the house all day. But I promise, everything's going to be all right. There's wards and protection on the house - me, you, and any of your relatives are the only people who can Apparate directly onto the grounds, and there's other things besides. And as far as me, they would never send me on a mission to get a Circle member, not without heavy backup, at least. I've only been an Auror for a few years. They'd send Uncle Harry, or Hestia Jones, or some other Auror who's been there for twenty years. Don't worry too much." He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "I'll be fine. We all will."

"Dom's at the Ministry," Victoire mumbled. "She's at risk too."

"No offense," Teddy said, holding up his hands in surrender, "but Dominique isn't exactly at a high position. The Circle members probably don't even know she exists. We're safe, Dom's safe, Freddie is too high-profile for anybody to get near him, and everyone else is at Hogwarts. And as far as your parents, uncles, and aunts...well, I would like to see a Circle member that thinks they're good enough to take on any of them."

Victoire tried to smile. Teddy's reassurances weren't completely convincing her, but it was nice that he was trying. She knew that she worried a lot; it was a side effect of being the oldest cousin, the mother of the group. She wanted to protect them all, but she couldn't, and that scared her as well. She was just at home all the time, because she didn't have a job, and she was unable to do anything to help the others stay out of danger. She was terrified for Teddy, the Auror, putting himself in danger every time he went to work. "Thanks, love," she said, standing up. "I think I'm going to go write a letter to Dominique."

Teddy's brow furrowed. "You saw her just the other day, didn't you? For the end-of-summer party?"

"Yeah. But I want to ask her if she knows any places that might need a mind-Healer, because if anybody would know, it'd be her." Dominique had a bit of a reputation as someone who knew everything, a reputation that wasn't completely untrue. "And you know Dom - she hates when people drop in on her, so I'd rather just write." Victoire disappeared into the bedroom that the two of them shared, coming back out within seconds with a quill and parchment in her hands.

The letter she wrote was short; she didn't want to bother Dominique by sending a long letter. She finished it in minutes, and walked over to the cage that held their owl, Patch. Releasing him, she set the letter in his beak and opened the window; he flew into the distance, and was gone.


	2. Freddie - September

_Since I haven't been able to find any clear information on when professional Quidditch teams play, for the sake of this story, the season runs from October to the middle of May, with the championship games at the end of May._

* * *

_September 1st, 2022_

"See you tomorrow, team," Coach Bellevue said, his gaze sweeping over the fourteen people standing there. Seven of them - including Freddie Weasley - were the starters, and the other seven were reserves, kept on hold in case one of the starters was unable to play in a particular game. Freddie felt proud of himself; he was only twenty-one, and he was one of the starting players on a professional Quidditch team. Admittedly, that team was the Chudley Cannons, but still. Everyone had to start somewhere - and besides, the Cannons didn't suck as much as they used to. "Dismissed," Bellevue continued, and the team dispersed, walking across the pitch to the locker rooms.

Freddie chanced a look back at his coach. Martin Bellevue was shorter than he was, with a burly physique and tanned skin from years of being out in the sun. He was around forty, with a blunt manner; he didn't hesitate to tell his team when they were playing terrible, although he didn't hesitate to praise them, either. Freddie liked him. Bellevue was a good coach, and who knew - maybe, with Bellevue's coaching ability, he could lead the team to success.

He was too busy musing on the possibilities of actually doing well this season that he bumped right into somebody. "Sorry," he said automatically, looking to see who it was. The girl standing there looked annoyed. She was probably his age, maybe a year younger, with black hair.

"You need to watch where you're going." She had a slight accent that Freddie couldn't place. Shaking her head, she turned to walk off, but Freddie called out after her.

"Who are you? I've never seen you before."

She turned back around to face him, still looking rather annoyed. It came as a surprise to Freddie, who was used to the popularity with women that being a professional Quidditch player brought him. He had a different girlfriend every month, it seemed, and he had a reputation with the team for flirting with anybody who had boobs. "Isabel Krovsky, if you must know."

"Freddie Weasley." Freddie stuck out his hand to shake; reluctantly, Isabel took it and gave him a quick handshake, looking almost as though she wanted to wipe her hand on her trousers afterward. "I'm the Cannons' Keeper. Are you a player, too?"

"No. I'm Coach Bellevue's assistant. He wanted somebody to help with all the mundane things that need to be done, like scheduling." She shrugged. "It pays, and I need the money."

Freddie nodded, although he wasn't really used to 'needing the money'. The Weasleys were reasonably well-off now, and none of Freddie's generation had ever needed secondhand books or hand-me-down clothes. Being a professional Quidditch player - even one on a team like the Cannons - provided Freddie with a more-than-steady source of income, as well, and he had the freedom and the money to do whatever he wanted. "Well, see you around, Izzy," he said, and her face darkened.

"It's Isabel," she corrected, before marching over to Coach Bellevue. Freddie stared after her for a moment; he couldn't recall the last time that he had seen somebody who seemed to be annoyed at his general existence. Either that, or she had been angry about the fact that he had bumped into her - but really, that was a minor thing. He wasn't used to people disliking him - it hadn't happened in a really long time, since he had been popular even at Hogwarts, before he had become a professional athlete.

He shook his head and walked over to the locker room, quickly showering before changing back into his regular clothes. Gathering up his things, he said his goodbyes to his teammates and left, promptly Disapparating.

He landed on the edge of the front steps to his house, nearly falling off. Freddie regained his balance, glad nobody was there to see him, and entered his home, dumping his things by the front door. That was a major perk to living alone; there was nobody to tell him to put his things away, and Freddie was young enough to appreciate that a lot. Of course, Rachel was coming over tonight, and she would probably tell him his house was a mess, but he didn't care too much. He was beginning to grow apart from Rachel, anyway.

Rachel Thewlitt was his current girlfriend. She was a year older than him, which sometimes prompted her to act like she knew more and was more mature than Freddie was. Both of those things were true, but she did overdo it, and it got on his nerves. As he checked out that day's _Prophet, _he wondered to himself if he was ready to break up with her. They had been dating for five weeks - a long time for Freddie - and he didn't think it could last much longer. Rachel was a great kisser, but even Freddie knew that there had to be a bit more to a relationship than physical chemistry.

Rachel came over precisely at six-thirty, the time that she had said. She seemed distracted, though; she kept fidgeting with a strand of her hair, and she wouldn't keep eye contact with Freddie. It was odd enough that when she went to use the loo, Freddie checked the protective spells that Aunt Hermione and Uncle Harry had set up around his house, but everything was in order, and when Rachel sat back down, Freddie discovered why she had been acting so strangely.

"Freddie..." Rachel said slowly, "this isn't working."

"You mean us?" He gestured to the two of them, as though his words weren't clear enough.

She fidgeted with her hair again. "Yeah. Us. Freddie, you're a great bloke, but you're too young. You need to grow up a little." Her eyes darted to the pile of Quidditch things near the door, just as he expected. "I know you flirt with other girls, and so much of your time is taken up with Quidditch, as well. There's a lot of reasons, you know?" She sighed. "I hope we can still be friends." Her words didn't sound sincere, however, and Freddie recognized it. He had said it to girls in the past, and a few girls had said it to him. He had been in enough relationships to recognize insincerity, and also to know that friendships with exes didn't really work very well, most of the time.

"Yeah, of course," he said, equally insincere.

"I've got to go," Rachel said, and left, barely ten minutes after she had arrived. Freddie leaned back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. What was he supposed to do all night, then? It was the school year now, so there was no chance of seeing most of his cousins; they were at Hogwarts. It would have been great to go out with James, who was now of-age, and could therefore buy Firewhiskey with him and try to pick up girls. But no, James was at Hogwarts now, and there was no way that he would sneak out and get drunk on the night before his first official day of seventh year. James was wild, but not _that _wild.

He considered Victoire and Teddy, but they were wrapped up in married life, and they probably wouldn't want a third wheel, anyway. Freddie did have lots of friends, but none of them were as close as the people he had grown up with, not to mention the fact that Freddie's friends were also pretty busy most of the time. His brain shifted to Dominique - the chances of Dominique being busy were slim to none. Dominique did not have a social life, and even she probably would be home by now. She had a boyfriend, but it seemed to Freddie that the two of them never really did anything exciting together. He could get together with Dom, then - she was probably the only person he knew who was free.

Freddie stepped out of his house and Disapparated again. Dominique had a flat, which meant that he couldn't reach her place by Floo; he had to Apparate into the alley beside her flat building, and pray that it was deserted. Thankfully it was this time, and he let himself into the building with no problems. He knocked on her door, and was rewarded with it opening a crack. He could see a sliver of Dominique's face, and she said, "Prove you're Freddie."

"Dom," Freddie said, "would a freaking Circle member knock?"

Dominique rolled her eyes. "Yes," she said, "you're definitely Freddie." She opened the door all the way and let him in, closing and locking it behind him. "What did you do this time?" she asked. "Please tell me you didn't murder somebody. I don't fancy having to go against the Ministry to help you."

Freddie adapted a wounded expression. "Why do you think so lowly of me?"

Dominique sighed. "Because last time you showed up at my house, you were so drunk that you couldn't stand up straight. The time before that, you thought you had gotten your girlfriend pregnant. The time before -"

"I get it." Freddie held up a hand. "But no, I didn't do anything. Rachel broke up with me, though, and now I don't have anything to do tonight."

"You don't have to do something every single night, you know. Plenty of people stay at home and read a book. When's the last time you read something - something other than the _Prophet _or _Quidditch_ _Weekly_?"

"Is there even a magazine called Quidditch Weekly?" Freddie asked curiously, and Dominique looked up at the ceiling. "Because I'd like to get a subscription, I think."

Dominique shrugged. "As if I would know something about Quidditch, Freddie. Anyway, why did Rachel break up with you? You two were dating for five weeks. I know that's a long time for you."

"She said I was 'young'." Freddie made air quotes around the word. "She's barely a year older than me. Whatever, though - I saw this girl today. Isabel Krovsky - you know her?"

"No," Dominique said. "As though I know everybody."

"Well, you know everything, so knowing everybody isn't too far off," Freddie quipped. "She was really hot, though. And she didn't seem to like me very much."

"Now I want to meet this girl," Dominique said, crossing her legs primly. Freddie looked around the living room. It was a stark contrast to his own messy rooms. Dominique's flat was perfectly-kept and impeccably neat, with not a single thing that was out-of-place. He wondered why she actually bothered to keep it so perfect, since she was living alone, with nobody who would really criticize her if she was messy. He didn't get the point at all - although he didn't get the point of many things that Dominique did, including getting all Os on her OWLs and NEWTs. "Who is she, anyway? Is she a new player?"

"She's my coach's assistant," Freddie replied. "Apparently she handles all the boring things. And hey, maybe if you meet her, you could tell her about how awesome I am. Would you do that for me, Dom?"

"No," Dominique said. "I'm not interfering in your love life. You seem to be doing just fine on your own, thank you very much." She stood up. "I have pasta on the stove. Did you eat supper?"

"I'll take a big plate, please," Freddie answered. Dominique muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'Of course', and disappeared into the kitchen. Freddie could hear the clank of dishes, and barely two minutes later, she returned, levitating two plates. One of them was heaped much higher than the other. For a little while, they ate in silence, and then Freddie said, "So, you wouldn't help me by talking to Isabel Krovsky?"

Dominique swallowed a bite of pasta. "No, I wouldn't. If you're really desperate to get with every girl you meet, well, don't be a jerk. If she doesn't respond to your flirting, don't flirt with her. Women hate it when blokes push too much. There's a difference between perseverance and being an annoying stalker. Just be friends with her first. Then she might be willing to turn it into more than that." She carried her half-finished plate into the kitchen; Dominique was never a big eater, despite her tall frame. Freddie heard the water running, and a few moments later, Dominique came back.

"Did you seriously just wash the dishes right now?"

"I'm not going to leave them all night," she said. "And anyway, pay attention to what I said. Just be friendly. You're reasonably likable - at least, you were popular at school, before you became rich and famous."

"Technically," Freddie said, "all the Weasley-Potters are rich and famous."

"Fine, then. You were popular at school, before you became even richer and more famous than you were before." The corner of her mouth quirked up in a slightly bitter smile. "It's kind of amusing. Out of you, Victoire, Teddy, and I, you were always the slacker, you know? Always late to classes, always turning your work in late and barely making Acceptables on your OWLs and NEWTs. And now, we're all out of school, and you've got the best job out of all of us - you have your own house that's big enough for a family of six, and enough money to support yourself for fifteen years even if you lost your job tomorrow. Meanwhile, Vic's looking for work, Teddy's an Auror - which is a decent profession, but not the most high-paying thing in the world - and I'm a glorified paid intern."

Freddie hesitated a moment. "Dom, er, if you ever need help -"

"I'm not taking donations." Dom's voice was fierce, a sharp contrast to her usual calm, collected demeanor. "I'm not a charity case, Freddie, and definitely not to _you_." She covered her mouth the second after she said the words. "I'm sorry."

"Definitely not to _me_?" Freddie mimicked her tone. "What's that supposed to mean? Because I didn't get straight Os on my OWLs and NEWTs? Because I'm not a Ravenclaw whose brains rival Aunt Hermione's? I'm curious, Dominique. What did you mean by that?" He rose to his feet, and Dominique followed, almost matching his height. He was taller than her, but only by a little, and her posture was much more impeccable than his.

"I didn't mean it," Dominique said, her teeth clenched. She took a few deep breaths, counting to ten in a whisper that Freddie barely could hear, and then she repeated her apology. "I'm sorry. You know - you know I don't like having help." Her voice was quieter as she spoke the words; Freddie knew that she hated admitting she was wrong just as much as she hated asking for or needing help. "Please don't be angry." She looked younger, almost, and Freddie was reminded that she was almost a whole year younger than him, only just turning twenty-one in a couple weeks. It was difficult to stay angry with her; it was difficult for him to stay angry at any of his family members. Freddie had an almost Hufflepuff-like loyalty towards them, especially Dominique and Victoire, since he was closest to them.

Freddie took a deep breath as well. "I'm not angry." He sat back down, and Dominique followed his lead a second later. He finished his supper, and Dominique repeated her earlier process of returning the dish to the kitchen and washing it then and there. He was tempted to offer his help, but he knew Dominique would refuse it anyway; she had her own way of doing things, and she tended to correct people who did them differently. She preferred to do her own thing, anyway, and he had long since grown used to it. He had never met anyone other than Dominique who actually didn't mind cleaning or organizing things, but he had known her for so long - his whole life, practically - that she was normal to him.

When Dominique had finished, she once again came back to the living room, and for a little while they chatted companionably, the argument - if one could even call it that - forgotten. Freddie told her about the Cannons, although he couldn't talk for too long about Quidditch; it was the one topic that Dominique did not know a lot about, and she didn't particularly care for sport, either. She tried to show interest for Freddie's sake, however, and he - likewise - nodded politely as she discussed her own problems at work. She didn't mention her boyfriend, Patrick, but Freddie wasn't surprised at that, either. Dominique wasn't the type of person to talk about her romantic life very often; she wasn't as open as Freddie was about things like that, or as in-love as Victoire and Teddy were.

At nine o'clock, Dominique politely kicked Freddie out, saying that she was going to wind down before going to bed, and Freddie hugged her and left, returning to the alley beside her flat building and Disapparating. His house was exactly as he left it, and he browsed through the _Prophet _a little more before retiring to bed himself. It was early, but he didn't feel like trying to find which of his friends was up for doing something.

He laid awake for a little while, unable to go to sleep. Part of it was presumably because of the early hour, but his mind also kept replaying the earlier events of the day. Rachel breaking up with him. Beautiful Isabel Krovsky, who seemed to dislike him on sight. Dominique's advice. Quidditch practice. Everything melded together in his mind, and eventually, he dropped off into a peaceful sleep.


	3. Dominique - September

_September 4th, 2022 _

* * *

The Ministry was a very crowded place at eight-thirty in the morning. Many people were arriving for work at that time, or coming into the Ministry for some other business, and the few night workers were leaving, being replaced by the huge staff that the Ministry employed. Dominique was used to it, however; it no longer seemed like an impenetrable sea of thousands of people, like it had on her very first day.

She found her cubicle quickly; the few years she had worked at the Ministry had helped her to effortlessly learn her way around. She prided herself on her memory, and learning where everything was in the Ministry was no exception. It wasn't necessarily important for her to know where everything was, since all her work was either done in the courtrooms or in her cubicle, but there was no way Dominique was going to work somewhere and not know where everything was.

In the hierarchy of Ministry employees, Dominique wasn't particularly high-level. She worked in the courtrooms, often - although not always - with the Wizengamot, transcribing the trials and keeping records. It wasn't a very difficult job, since she had enchanted the quill to write down what it 'heard' - like, almost, a truthful version of a Quick-Quotes Quill. She didn't always have to transcribe, however, since there wasn't a trial every single day, and on the off days she sat in her cubicle and answered letters, often personal letters as opposed to work letters, since there wasn't too much else she needed to do.

Before anything else, Dominique hastily searched her cubicle for a letter from any Wizengamot member, but there were none. She had a calendar marked with trial dates, but occasionally a date was changed, and she would always be informed of these changes. There didn't appear to be anything, however, and so she set her bag on the table and took out her personal letters, preparing to answer them. There was one from Molly, she noticed, asking about Head Girl-ship. Dominique had been Head Girl during her time at Hogwarts, and now Molly was as well. Molly would do well, Dominique knew, since Molly was a good student and never seemed to get into any trouble.

There was also a letter from Dominique's mother and father, a simple letter asking about how she was doing, whether she and Patrick were still together, and when the next time she could come over was. It had only been a few days since Dominique had last seen her parents - the Weasley-Potters always threw a party on August thirtieth, to celebrate the end of the summer, and everyone had been in attendance. It would be nice to get together with them, however, and she vaguely wondered if Victoire - probably with Teddy - would show up as well.

She was just putting her quill to a piece of parchment, ready to respond to her parents' letter first, when Patrick Tollison entered her cubicle. "Hey, Dom," he said, adjusting the collar of his Auror robes. He looked very polished, she noted - very sharp. As much as Dominique worried about Patrick's choice of career - worried about the danger that came with being an Auror, especially - she had to admit, he seemed to be very good at it, and he looked very nice in the robes.

"Hi," she replied, setting her quill down, and looking up at him with a slightly bemused expression on her face. Usually, Patrick and Dominique didn't see each other at the Ministry. Being an Auror was not a job that came with a lot of breaks, for one, and Dominique was always in places that Patrick never needed to be in - her cubicle and the courtrooms. Aurors did testify at trials, but Patrick hadn't had to yet. "You have a break already?"

"Well..." Patrick fidgeted slightly. "In a way, yeah."

"What happened?" Dominique nodded to the seat across from her, and Patrick took it. "Is everything okay?"

"Oh, yeah," Patrick said. "I had some papers to file, so I passed it off on one of the trainees and had him do it instead." Dominique gave him a disapproving look, which he promptly ignored. "I was thinking - since you don't have anything to do, and I don't have anything to do, that we could go out for a quick breakfast. We'll be back in a half hour - no one will miss us." A rakish smile crossed his face.

Dominique forced back a sigh. Patrick had changed since leaving Hogwarts. In Hogwarts, he had been well-behaved, a good student, and Dominique's fellow prefect, even becoming Head Boy to her Head Girl in seventh year. They had started dating that year, despite Dominique's plan to not date during Hogwarts, and everything had seemed perfect. Patrick was very similar to her, and Dominique liked that. Now, Patrick wasn't so straight-laced. She knew that the other Aurors had rubbed off on him, and the lack of rewards for good behavior had probably also lessened his interest in following all the rules.

It annoyed Dominique, however. She still loved Patrick - nothing could truly change that, she supposed - but she couldn't deny she liked the old Patrick more. She made it a point to always follow the rules, to stay on the path and do things _right_, and the fact that Patrick wasn't like that anymore was a little disheartening. In Hogwarts, he had been one of the few people who agreed with her when she said that rules weren't meant to be broken. He was one of the few people who agreed with her when she complained about fellow students making trouble and not doing things right. Now, he was like one of those troublemaking students. He was beginning to remind her of James, even, and that was decidedly not a good thing.

"Dom?" Patrick said, looking worried, and she snapped out of her thoughts as he continued. "You all right? Is anything wrong?"

"I'm fine," Dominique replied. "Nothing's wrong." She offered up a smile, and, looking grateful, Patrick returned it.

"So do you want to go, or not? You don't have any trial dates written on the calendar for today." He gestured to it, looking slightly impatient, and Dominique tilted her head slightly. She hadn't seen him look at it when he first came in, and she couldn't help but wonder if he had come to her cubicle before she had arrived, in order to see whether or not she was busy that day. It wasn't outside the realm of possibility; Dominique's cubicle wasn't locked or protected in any way, and there was no reason why Patrick - who got to work a whole half hour before Dominique did - couldn't have checked.

"And sneak out of the Ministry, Patrick?" Dominique raised her eyebrows. "We could get in trouble for that, you know, even though neither of us technically have anything to do."

"Yes, but that's if someone finds us. Come on, Dom, live a little. We'll only be gone a half hour - I know a place on the same street, and they're never crowded, so we'll be in and out. Nothing to worry about - by the time anybody realizes we're missing, we'll be back. They can't search the whole Ministry in half an hour for us." He stood up, offering her his hand. "Are you coming?"

For a moment, she considered going with him. What he said was correct; if anybody wanted to look for them, it would take them a while to search the Ministry, and by that time, Patrick and Dominique would have returned. Besides, even if they were caught, they would probably only get lectured. Sneaking out for such a short period of time, especially when neither one had work to do, wasn't a particularly major offense. It was tempting, and she actually rose a whole centimeter out of her chair before sinking back down. "Can't we just go out to a restaurant after we finish work, instead?" she asked.

Patrick looked disappointed. "Merlin, Dominique. It's not like I'm asking you to go get wasted or something." He shook his head. "You can be really boring sometimes, you know that?" He started walking out of the cubicle. "I'll see you later," he said, but it was obvious that his heart wasn't in it. Dominique sighed, putting her head down on the desk.

Was she really boring? She mulled the question over in her mind. She had never wanted to think of herself as 'boring'. She had been called that before, but the last time it had been serious was at Hogwarts; several of the students who got in trouble because of her had called her boring and stuck-up. They had an excuse, however. It was true that sometimes her cousins called her that, but that was always joking - in the same way, they called James cocky, or Molly a know-it-all, or Lily scary. It may have been true, in some instances, but it wasn't said meanly.

Dominique frowned. She had no objection to having fun, after all - as long as the fun didn't break any rules or laws. She had fun when Aunt Audrey decided to splurge and take all of the young Weasley-Potters to an Muggle theme park. Dominique hadn't just stood around - she had went on the rides, and she had done so willingly. That was certainly considered fun, after all. It wasn't like she was unwilling to do everything, which is what the word 'boring' kind of implied, in her mind.

She thought back to the way Patrick had been in their seventh year of Hogwarts - and before, although she hadn't become truly close to him until seventh year. He never would have called her boring back then. In fact, more than once, both of them had commented on the similarities between their personalities. Now, Dominique couldn't see as many of those similarities. Yes, Patrick was still intelligent - nothing could change that - but he almost seemed less mature, even though he was older now. It was strange how he was more mature when he was younger. Wasn't the opposite usually the case, that someone would be more mature as they got older?

Setting her quill to parchment, Dominique penned a quick letter, but it wasn't to Molly or her parents.

_Lily,_

_Do you think I'm boring?_

_Love, Dominique _

If anybody would tell the truth, it would be Lily. The fourteen-year-old Slytherin could be blunt and painfully honest at times, and in this case, Dominique truly wanted to know what Lily thought. Lily was even more wild, even more of a troublemaker than this new Patrick was, after all, and so there was a chance that she would consider Dominique boring. There was also a chance that the family bond between them would soften her response in order to not hurt Dominique's feelings.

"Stop being ridiculous," Dominique muttered to herself, angrily stuffing the letter to Lily back in her bag. She knew that she would end up sending it, but it still felt silly to be asking a fourteen-year-old what she thought. Why did it matter, if people thought Dominique was boring? It wasn't as though she was going to be able to change. Uncle Percy hadn't, and he was over twice her age. It wasn't important, really, what Patrick had said. He was simply disappointed, and Dominique knew that people said things that they didn't mean when they were disappointed. He would probably apologize profusely after work, when they met at a restaurant. He would tell her how sorry he was, and how not-boring she was, and -

Dominique shook her head to clear it, and rummaged in her bag for the last letter she had. The last one was from Victoire; it started off complaining about the lack of a fireplace in Dominique's flat, and how much more convenient it would be to Floo-call. When that rant was over, it disintegrated into Victoire's musings about how difficult it was to find a job as a mind-Healer, and whether Dominique knew of any places that she could apply.

This was an easy response, at least. Dominique's message back was short, reading only as '_Try Hogwarts, or the Ministry, or St. Mungo's. If none of those work, maybe you could try setting up your own place in an empty location in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade. Love, Dominique'. _It was simple, but to-the-point, and Dominique knew that was what Victoire wanted, despite the ramblings that had been in Victoire's letter.

She tucked that one back in her bag as well, and quickly answered the others to her parents and to Molly; all of those were longer than the letter to Victoire, but not particularly lengthy. She made sure the letters that she had written were securely in her bag, and then disposed of the letters that had been sent to her, dropping them in the wastebasket underneath her desk. There. Now that was done - what else was she going to do, if there was no trials that day? It was still early in the morning, and she had hours left in the day before she could even consider leaving.

For a moment, she considered finding Patrick and asking him if he was still not busy, but she shook that thought out of her head as well. After what he had said, he deserved to wait before spending time with her. She didn't want to be the one running back to him, to admit that she was now bored. Dominique had her pride, as much as she hated to admit it, and she would not crawl back because she had nothing else to do now. She could handle not having anything to do. She had stayed awake during History of Magic for seven years at Hogwarts; she could handle waiting in her cubicle for the day to be over. There would be a lunch break, after all, and at that point she would be able to stretch her legs and walk around a little bit.

About a half hour later, a flying memo entered her office. She unfolded it and read it quickly; it was addressed to her, obviously, but from Patrick. That in itself was odd; the few times that they had needed to contact one another at work, he had always come to her cubicle and found her. She glared at the memo - Patrick was being standoffish, then - and read it. It was brief, but the words simultaneously irritated and saddened Dominique. '_Won't be able to go out tonight. Probably have to work late.' _

She tossed it into the trash, wondering if he was being truthful. It was correct that the Auror Office had been busy recently, attempting to keep tabs of Circle of Darkness activity and following whatever leads and tips they had, and she knew that for a fact. She saw it with Uncle Harry and Uncle Ron, with Teddy, and with Patrick; the Circle made them busier, and it did result in them working late multiple times. It was a little suspicious, though, how the day Patrick 'probably had' to work late happened to be the same day that Dominique had annoyed him.

She knew it could have been coincidental, but she wasn't a Ravenclaw for nothing, and all suspicions, all thoughts, ran through her mind, and most of them were not happy ones.


	4. James - September

_September 7th, 2022 _

James had a to-do list for his seventh year of Hogwarts.

It wasn't something he would ever admit to anybody. Keeping a to-do list was organized, and James Sirius Potter was not an organized person. That designation fell to Molly or Dominique, both of whom probably had lists of all their lists. James only had one list, but it was very important to him - or, more accurately, it was very important that he finish the items on the list.

The first one was to pass his NEWTs. The fact that that was the first thing on his list was something else he would never tell anyone, since caring about school tended to come very low on James's priorities. He did decently well despite his lack of caring, however, and this had gotten him into the NEWT-level classes he needed to become an Auror. At that point, he half-wanted to be an Auror, and half-wanted to be a professional Quidditch player; he wanted to have both options completely available to him, however, so he needed to pass the classes necessary to even apply for Auror training.

The next item on the list was to get Alyssa Macmillan to go out with him. Alyssa Macmillan was in his year, a red-haired Hufflepuff prefect that James found extremely attractive. He fancied Alyssa; she didn't appreciate him at all, since she found him and his friends to be ridiculous at times. Being ridiculous was something that James and his friends - Casey, Alexandra, and Roxanne - were quite good at, though, and enjoyed. That made things a little more difficult for James, but he was determined to get Alyssa to enjoy his presence. After all, James's namesake had done it; why couldn't he?

The last item was to go out with a bang. James knew the story of the Weasley twins' flight from Hogwarts. It was one of the few stories from his parents' childhood that wasn't completely dark and depressing, and so it had been told to him more than once. He completely loved the idea, and thought that it was the most brilliant thing that had ever been done at Hogwarts. Apparently, he wasn't the only one, either - a small piece of the Portable Swamp on the fifth floor, about six inches by six inches, remained cordoned off as a memorial to the Weasley twins' brilliance.

James knew, however, that going out with a bang had to be modified a little. He did, unfortunately, know that he had to sit his NEWTs, and not get expelled or quit Hogwarts. Therefore, he couldn't do exactly what his uncles had done; he had to change up the plan a little, so he remained a student at the school for as long as all the other seventh years did. Therefore, he had come up with several practical jokes - all of them extremely memorable - to be done over the course of the year. All of them were things that couldn't be proven; unless he and his friends were caught in the act, it wouldn't be clear who had done the practical joke.

"Oi!" The voice of Casey Chance - one of James's best friends - interrupted his musings. Casey spoke quietly - it was after midnight - but loud enough for James, who was still awake, to hear. "You going to lay there in bed all night fantasizing about Macmillan, or are we going to go do the you-know-what?"

James made a face. "You do realize that if anyone else is awake, they interpreted that sentence really inappropriately?"

Casey sighed. "You know what I meant - the prank. And you have a really dirty mind, Potter."

"As if you don't." James grabbed the Marauder's Map from the small table beside his bed. "C'mon, let's go get the girls." He stood up, rolling out of bed and grabbing his wand, which he promptly lit. Casey was standing by the door, his wand also lit. Both boys were dressed in dark clothes - all the better for sneaking around, and James couldn't shake the thought that they looked like they were going to rob something.

The girls - Roxanne Weasley and Alexandra Volante, the other members of their foursome - were already in the common room, waiting impatiently. They were dressed in equally dark clothes, and both had their hair pulled back; Alexandra's long hair went halfway down her back, while Roxanne's was a more reasonable length anyway. They all looked completely ready.

"I still can't believe Lily consented to give you the map," Roxanne said, frowning at it. "What did you have to do?"

James rolled his eyes. He had taken the Marauder's Map from his father's desk the day before his first year at Hogwarts began. Lily had stolen the map from James when she was a first year, and kept it all that time. "I paid her. Oh, shut up," he said, seeing Casey open his mouth. "She won't tell - she does stuff like this herself all the time."

"She's a Slytherin," Casey said distastefully.

"And she's my sister."

Alexandra looked between the other three. "Are you going to yap all night, or are we going to go do this?"

James unfolded the map, agreeing with Alexandra. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he said, tapping the map with his wand. Ink spread all over the surface, forming itself into a perfect map of Hogwarts, complete with the dots that represented each student and professor. The other three gathered around the map, all of them looking. Two professors were out patrolling, but James knew that was nothing. The castle was so large that many more patrollers would be needed to be any sort of threat to curfew-breaking students; however, there simply weren't enough prefects and professors to have a large force out at all hours of the night. With the Marauder's Map, James and the others were completely safe.

Since James had the Marauder's Map, he led the way. Roxanne, Alexandra, and Casey trailed behind him; James knew that they, like him, were working to stay as silent as possible, even though the professors were nowhere nearby. It wouldn't be good to cause a ruckus right now, anyway. That wasn't part of the plan.

They reached the Great Hall - their destination - with no problems. Once inside, James set up a silencing charm and handed the map to Casey, who would be their lookout. He held his lit wand over it, scanning it, while the other three spread throughout the room.

It wasn't as dark as one would expect. The ceiling of the Great Hall showed the moon and stars, both of which helped provide light to the room; there were two torches, one on either side of the doors, and even Casey's lit wand helped a little. It wasn't as bright as day, by any means, but it was light enough so that nobody had to worry about running into a table.

James moved his wand over the wall. The Color Charm he was using was a simple one, and he knew it would be removed easily, but not before almost the whole school got a chance to see it. The teachers didn't get to the Great Hall any earlier than a majority of the students, and James knew that they'd never be able to clear the whole thing without a lot of people seeing it first.

"Are you sure we shouldn't do red, for Gryffindor?" Alexandra said.

"No red," James replied. "Had to tell Lily what we're doing here, and she said if we did red, she'd hex me in the bollocks, and I like my bollocks the way they are, thank you very much."

Roxanne groaned. "I never want to hear you talk about your bollocks. I don't want to hear it. Shut up and paint, James."

James continued painting. Despite Alexandra's objection, they had previously decided on a bright, neon pink. It was extremely eye-catching and conspicuous, and not at all subtle, which was exactly what James wanted. It also didn't have a House affiliation, which also helped; James didn't plan to take credit for this prank, after all, since he wanted to avoid as many detentions as possible. Oh, he still wanted to play pranks - that would never change - but he didn't want to get in trouble unless it was absolutely necessary.

It wasn't impossible for them to reach the upper parts of the walls. The enchanted ceiling couldn't be colored - Roxanne had investigated that herself, and found that it couldn't be done - but the upper parts of the walls could. Reaching them had been the problem, but a _Wingardium Leviosa _from one person helped another reach the upper parts. Roxanne levitated Alexandra to the higher parts, while James worked on the lower parts of the walls, and within an hour, all of the walls were bright pink.

They weren't done, however. They moved on to the tables and floors, to the doors and the benches and everything on the ground, and when another thirty minutes had passed, the entire Great Hall - save for the ceiling - was bright pink. It was a stunning effect, even in the dimness of two in the morning, and James couldn't wait to see what it looked like in the morning. It would be perfect; it was a wonderful way to start the school year, even though almost a full week had already passed.

When they had finished, James took the Marauder's Map back from Casey, and, as silent as possible, the four students made their way back to Gryffindor Tower. There, the two girls separated from the boys, going up into their own dormitory, and Casey and James headed back into theirs, both grinning like idiots. James couldn't express how incredibly awesome it felt to pull something that big and not get caught doing it; it was a huge rush of adrenaline that he knew wouldn't go away any time soon. He knew he probably wouldn't get much sleep that night, but at the moment, he didn't particularly care.

"Mischief managed," he whispered, tapping the Marauder's Map. It went blank; he stuffed it in one of the drawers of his bedside table, changed into pajamas, and laid down, eagerly waiting for the morning.

* * *

The official morning of September seventh started off normal. James was, as expected, tired from a lack of sleep, but he was also hyperaware of the fact that he and his roommates - and everybody else who happened to come to breakfast - would be treated to a bright pink Great Hall. He had to act as normal as possible, however, since three of his roommates - Andrew Gold, Zachary Beckett, and Thomas Newport - had no idea what had happened. James didn't necessarily think they would turn him in; they were cool blokes, but it was simply that James thought the smartest thing to do would be to have as few people in the know as possible. Right now, the only people who knew what the Great Hall currently looked like were James, Roxanne, Casey, Alexandra, and Lily - and that was how James wanted it.

Andrew - the last one in the loo - was taking a really long time getting ready, and so the other four boys left without him, strolling down through the common room and out the door. The walk to the Great Hall was a long one - down seven flights of stairs - and by the time James and the other three boys arrived, it was almost time for the food to appear on the tables. They stepped inside the Great Hall, and their eyes were hit by pink. Pink everywhere. It was an impossibly bright pink, and in broad daylight, it was almost blinding. It was perfect, everything James had imagined, and it looked so much more impressive in daylight.

Zachary grinned. "Whoever did this is a bloody genius," he said, looking around. "Oi, James. You reckon it's that little sister of yours? She's got quite a reputation for things like this."

James shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe." He felt the smallest twinge of annoyance that Zachary's first thought was Lily and not him, but he forced that thought away and sat down at the Gryffindor table, across from the seventh year girls. Roxanne had to keep wiping a smirk off of her mouth, and Alexandra was staring around, taking it all in - the reaction of many of the students, it seemed.

When all of the students had sat down - a process that seemed to take longer than usual - Headmistress Clearwater stood up, surveying the students. "I have no idea who did this," she said, sounding extremely annoyed, "but I aim to find out. If anybody has any idea who did this - and I mean facts, not guesses - then come to me or one of the other professors and tell them. It will take a while to clean all of this up, and students should not get away with an incident like this unpunished." She narrowed her eyes at the Gryffindors, but James acted as innocent as possible; after all, he had left no clues. There was no way that she could prove it was him, and he didn't want her to try, either.

To James's silent delight, the Great Hall was left untouched for the whole of breakfast; apparently, it would have been too difficult to clean with all the students getting in the way. He exchanged a look with Alexandra, Roxanne, and Casey as they finished up and left, but they didn't dare say anything too obvious. James's goal was to remain uncaught. Oh, he wanted students to assume it was him, but he didn't want to take the fall for it - nor did he want his friends to.

He got separated from the other three as he was walking out. Deciding not to shove back through the throng of students to find them, he fell into step with Alyssa Macmillan, who happened to be nearby. She rolled her eyes up at him. "What is it, Potter? Come to brag about your immature little prank in there?"

James furrowed his brow, acting as innocent as possible. "Why do you think it was me?"

She stared straight ahead as she responded, not even giving him the courtesy of eye contact. James took the time to admire her face from the side. She had a very nice face, he thought. Her hair was red, but not the same shade as Molly or Rose, thankfully. It was very pretty, James noted, and as a result, he missed what she actually said.

"Sorry. What was that?" James said, adapting a very interested expression.

Alyssa rolled her eyes. "I said, because you always have a hand in every single practical joke that occurs here at Hogwarts. If you weren't so busy ogling me, you would have heard what I said."

"I wasn't ogling you," said James. "And hey - you were looking straight ahead. How would you even know if I was ogling you?"

"It's called peripheral vision, Potter." She shook her head and hurried off; James stared after her, his eyes drifting downward to her arse. After she got halfway down the hallway, she turned around and glared at him. "Stop checking out my arse, Potter!"

"How did she know?" James muttered to himself.

Casey, approaching just at that moment, patted James's shoulder. "Girls have eyes in the back of their heads, you know."

James tilted his head slightly, watching as Alyssa disappeared around the corner. As soon as she was gone, he turned back to Casey. "You reckon she'll fancy me by the end of this year?"

"No way, mate. You and Alyssa? She'd never go for you."

James raised his eyebrows. "Wanna bet?"

"You're on," Casey said, offering his hand. "Loser has to do anything the winner says for twenty-four hours."

For a split second, James hesitated. That was risky; Casey had the same mischievous, devious mind that James did. There was no doubt that the loser would be in for humiliation and detention. It had happened before, with other bets. This wasn't the first time two of them had bet each other like this, and it probably wouldn't be the last, either. After all, James wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing. He extended his hand to Casey, and the boys shook. "Deal," James said, and his mind began to race with possible schemes - both schemes to get Alyssa to fancy him, and schemes of things for Casey to do during the twenty-four hours he was indebted to James.

James was sure of his own victory; he just wasn't sure how it was going to happen quite yet. But he had time.


	5. Roxanne - September

_September 20, 2022 _

Roxanne had only been inside the Room of Requirement a couple of times. Those times, it had been nothing more than a hiding place; it had been after curfew, and she hadn't particularly wanted detention. This time, it was much nicer; two comfortable-looking green armchairs sat in front of a small fireplace. The room was decorated sparsely, but it was pleasant enough, and Roxanne perched in one of the armchairs as Lily - who had been the one to ask the Room of Requirement for this type of room - sat down in the other one. "Why are we here?" Roxanne asked.

Lily seemed amused. "I'm not particularly into philosophical debates."

Roxanne rolled her eyes. "I wasn't asking why we're here on this planet. I'm asking why you dragged me into the Room of Requirement."

"Does there have to be a reason?" Lily asked, all wide-eyed innocence. Roxanne knew she was anything but; anybody who thought Lily Luna Potter was innocent obviously didn't know her very well. "Can't a girl just spend time with her cousin without there being some sort of ulterior motive?"

"You always have an ulterior motive," Roxanne pointed out.

Lily smirked. "I suppose you're right, Roxie."

Roxanne shuddered. "Nobody's allowed to call me that ex - nobody can call me that." _Except Alexandra, _she thought, but kept that to herself. This was no time to be thinking about that, after all, and it was pointless anyway. Alexandra was Roxanne's friend - and it ended there. There was no way that Alexandra would ever feel anything but friendship for Roxanne; she had resigned herself to that fact, even though she wished with all her might that it wasn't true. "What do you want, Lily?"

Lily's smirk disappeared; for once she looked serious, almost mature. It was an unusual look for her. Roxanne almost always saw Lily either smirking, or with a mysterious smile, or with a mischievous expression. For her to look serious was a very odd thing. "I know what you're hiding," Lily said, and Roxanne's heartbeat sped up. There was absolutely no way that Lily could know about Alexandra. Roxanne put all her effort into ensuring that nobody found out about that stupid little crush.

"What makes you think I'm hiding something?" Roxanne spread her hands wide, adapting a clueless, blank expression. "You know I'm an open book, Lils."

"You are," Lily acquiesced, "apart from one thing. I know what - or rather, who - you're hiding." She took a deep breath, and then dropped her bombshell. "I brought you here because I know you fancy Alexandra Volante."

Roxanne was stunned speechless; her mouth dropped open. It was overwhelming that Lily knew. Roxanne was sure that she had never been as obvious with her feelings as James was about Alyssa; she would never spread it around to the whole school that she fancied Alexandra. Although the Wizarding world in general was perfectly fine with that sort of thing, there were still a few prejudiced arseholes, and Roxanne didn't want to deal with them. There were some definite downsides to being part of the most famous family in the Wizarding world, and that was one of them - everything even slightly out-of-the-ordinary made it into the tabloids.

"What?" Roxanne was well aware that her voice was sharp, but she didn't particularly care. "How the hell - what the hell, Lily?"

"You Gryffindors aren't the most subtle people on the planet," Lily said easily. "You stare at her whenever you think she's not looking. You brush up against her more often than most people do. You let her call you Roxie, when you correct everybody else who dares to assume it's a nickname of yours." She looked expectantly at Roxanne. "Need I go on?"

"For Merlin's sake," Roxanne said, "where on earth do you get this from? You're a bloody fourth year - how can you even observe us like that?"

Lily shrugged. "You invited her over to your house this summer. I saw you two interact then. Not to mention meals, and time going from class to class, and all that. I have enough time to watch you two, and my watching you - and this conversation - has proven that you fancy Alexandra."

"So what if I do?" Roxanne folded her arms.

"Oh, it's definitely not a bad thing." Lily waved a dismissive hand, and Roxanne felt a wave of relief that at least one person didn't mind that she had a crush on another girl. "I just want to help you, see. You're my favorite cousin, after all."

Roxanne narrowed her eyes. "Help me? What exactly does that entail?" A vision danced in her head of Lily finding some arcane spell to glue Alexandra's and her lips together, or of Lily simply shoving their faces together. She shook the thought out of her head. "You don't get to just interfere in somebody's love life, Lily - it's not right."

Lily snorted. "You don't have a love life."

"Er, excuse me. I've dated people." She didn't mention a couple key facts - one, that the last time she dated somebody had been in fifth year, and two, that she hadn't actually been interested in any of the people she dated. She had dated four different boys in her time at Hogwarts - one in third year, two in fourth year, and one in fifth year - in an effort to see if she actually could show an interest in any boys. It hadn't worked; Roxanne had realized around third year that she strictly liked girls.

"I'm talking about right now," Lily said, gesturing around the room as though it was a visual representation of Roxanne's love life. "Currently, you don't have a relationship. And I completely understand - I'm all about the single life -"

"You're fourteen."

"Shush. Anyway, even though being single is perfectly fine, you fancy someone, and therefore you should get a chance with that person."

"Seriously," Roxanne said, "don't you have better things to do?"

Lily looked pensive. "I have other things to do - not necessarily better, though. Besides, I always like to have more than one scheme going at once - it makes things more interesting. And I'm planning something else, too - not about you, don't make that face - so matchmaking you and Alexandra will round out my year nicely." She nodded. "Okay, so that's settled -"

"That's _settled?_" Roxanne couldn't decide between being annoyed or amused; that, of course, was a pretty common reaction to being around Lily Potter. "I haven't even said it's okay for you to stick your nose in here! What if you do something really stupid and obvious?"

Lily's look was almost patronizing. "I'm a Slytherin. Stupid and obvious isn't our game." She looked pointedly at Roxanne's red-and-gold scarf. "Yours, on the other hand..."

Roxanne sighed. "Fine. You can come up with one of your little plans. Wouldn't be able to stop you anyway," she muttered, more to herself than Lily, although the younger girl seemed to hear. Lily smirked, and Roxanne glanced up at the ceiling. "If you do something I don't like, though, I get to tell you to back off."

Lily seemed like she was going to argue - and Roxanne wouldn't have been surprised - but she simply nodded, offering her hand. "Deal," she said, and the two girls shook hands, but Lily made no move to get up from her chair.

"Is there something else?" Roxanne asked, glancing toward the door.

"Well, yes," Lily admitted, after a couple seconds had passed. "See, there's this other thing I'm planning. And I want as many people in on it as possible, but I'm going to have a hard time getting some of the Gryffindors, because for whatever reason, they don't really like me. Not sure why."

She said that so seriously that Roxanne, for a moment, wasn't sure if she was joking or not. "Wonder if it has something to do with the fact that you once rigged some sort of goo to spray out of the Gryffindor common room's fireplace," she said. "Or the fact that you somehow bribed all the house-elves to not send up food to the Gryffindor table for breakfast one morning. Or -"

"Don't name everything I've done to you lions," Lily said, "or you'll be here for an hour and a half."

Roxanne looked pointedly at her watch. "We're getting there anyway."

"Oh, you don't have anywhere to be, and neither do I. And it's not like you'd rather be doing homework - you're not Molly." Lily brushed a strand of loose scarlet hair from her forehead. "Anyway, I want you to get all the trustworthy Gryffindors that you can. Anybody that you think will be willing to participate in a bit of harmless trouble and won't tell. And I want you to get them all into the Great Hall on Halloween, at eleven at night."

It sounded suspicious to Roxanne. The thought of Lily knowing where a bunch of Gryffindors were all together was a bit of a scary thought; Lily had pranked the Gryffindors enough times to raise Roxanne's suspicions. Roxanne trusted her cousin to some extent - as in, she firmly knew Lily wouldn't do anything seriously harmful. She also firmly knew, however, that Lily was a troublemaker at heart. "How can I trust you?" she asked.

Lily clapped a hand to her heart. "You don't trust me? I thought we were friends."

"I thought you weren't melodramatic," Roxanne retorted. "But in all seriousness, Lily, you know I trust you with important things, but I don't know if bringing a bunch of Gryffindors right to you is the best idea. It's like throwing a bunch of meat to a dog."

Chuckling, Lily tipped back on the chair, then sat back up. "Nice comparison - and, in some cases, it would be accurate. I swear, though, this time I'm not pranking you Gryffindors. It's going to be a school-wide prank against the professors and prefects. All four houses teaming up together. And I don't want to reveal all the details now, because that wouldn't make it as fun, but I promise you that I'm telling the truth."

She looked as though she was; she looked innocent, but it was always difficult to tell with Lily. Roxanne had known Lily for fourteen years, and in those fourteen years, she had realized that Lily could stare someone in the eyes and lie to them, that Lily could look like an angel while acting like a demon. It wasn't easy to tell with her, and being in Slytherin had only helped her to improve her talent for not being completely truthful. "Lily..."

"Look," Lily said, "I'm not forcing you. Do what you want. But realize that the next morning, what happened is going to be all over the school, and if you're not a part of it, you're going to regret it a lot." She shrugged. "It's your seventh year - thought you and your little group wanted to go out with a bang."

Roxanne sighed again. She vaguely noticed that she sighed a lot around Lily; it was just a side-effect of being near her, apparently. She was one of those people who was simultaneously infuriating and amusing. It was true that Lily was one of her favorite cousins - tied with James, she supposed - and it was also true that she did want to have the best seventh year possible. She took a deep breath. Maybe Lily was telling the truth - after all, she played practical jokes on the professors almost as much as she did on the Gryffindors. "Fine," she said. "I'm in. And I'll bring as many people as I can."

Lily clapped her hands. "Awesome. This is going to be fun - believe me, Roxanne, you and the others won't regret it. Who are you bringing?"

"James, Alexandra, and Casey," she said instantly. They would want to be a part of it, she knew - if she was part of Lily's plan, whatever the plan was, they would definitely want in on it as well. "Maybe a couple of our roommates. I think Clara would probably come. Don't know - I'll have to see." She shrugged. "I'll be able to get people, though. I'll recruit the others to get a couple people, too - James, Alexandra, and Casey would all know who's trustworthy with things like this just as much as I would."

Lily nodded, standing up. "Sure. Looking forward to it. And if you happen to know anybody from other houses who you're certain would be okay with it, feel free to ask them as well. I'll be able to get some Slytherins, but it's not like I know all of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, especially those who aren't in my year." She led the way to the door, and Roxanne followed. "See you," Lily said.

"Bye," Roxanne said as Lily darted off, gone in an instant.

Roxanne made her way up to Gryffindor Tower, and as she got there, she noticed that Alexandra was waiting outside. When Roxanne approached, the other girl's face lit up. "Oh, thank Merlin!" she exclaimed. "Been waiting out here for five minutes. I forgot the new password."

"It's 'dormiens'," Roxanne said, half-directing it toward the Fat Lady, half-directing it towards Alexandra. The portrait swung open, and the two girls climbed through into the common room, grabbing two chairs away from the fire. "What were you doing?"

"I was outside," Alexandra said. "It's beautiful out, so I was studying out there. I kind of got distracted, though, because of how nice out it was. I just wanted to lay there, not study. What about you?"

"Talking to my cousin Lily," Roxanne said, deciding to tell the truth. After all, there was no need to tell Alexandra the first part of the conversation, just as there was no need to tell Alexandra that her brown hair almost had streaks of golden in the light.

"Oh, yeah. Lily Potter." Alexandra raised her eyebrows. "She's interesting. What's she up to?"

Roxanne filled Alexandra in on Lily's unknown plan to gather apparently half the school in the Great Hall on Halloween night. "What do you think?" Roxanne finished.

Alexandra shrugged. "You know I don't trust Lily Potter. But I guess we should go see what it's about - I mean, she couldn't do anything too bad. I'd rather risk something and go see what she's doing than be safe and stay here and potentially miss something interesting."

"Exactly," Roxanne said. "I want to have the best year, since it's our last, and that kind of means taking risks."

She looked at Alexandra, and vaguely wondered what risks were worth taking - and which ones weren't.


	6. Molly - September

_September 14, 2022 _

Molly couldn't believe how wrong it felt.

She leaned against the corridor's wall, watching as Casey walked away. He strode confidently, pausing at the end of the corridor to wave to Molly before continuing back up to Gryffindor Tower. She could hear his footsteps fading into the distance, and she vaguely wondered if any of the patrollers would see him. Getting back into Gryffindor Tower might be difficult; the patrollers tended to congregate around the entrances to the common rooms, since that was where students would be exiting or entering after curfew.

Molly sighed slightly. It felt strange to be out after curfew when she wasn't scheduled to patrol. She had never been out after curfew until this year, apart from prefect patrols. Being out after curfew to meet up with a bloke just felt unnatural and wrong to her. She was Molly Ginevra Weasley. She was Head Girl, for Merlin's sake! If she were caught, there was a chance that she would get the position of Head Girl taken away from her and given to one of the other seventh year girls. It was insane that she actually was willing to risk it.

She didn't know why. She wasn't even sure if she loved Casey, because Molly didn't have very much experience with love. The only other person she had dated - a Hufflepuff boy in the year above her - had been one of the ultra-polite types, who didn't even do anything unless Molly instigated it. Casey wasn't like that. Casey was a typical teenage boy, occasionally rude, and cocky, and obnoxious. There were many times Molly had to stop him from taking things farther than she wanted. He was one of James's friends. He had - probably - been partially responsible for the incident with the pink Great Hall, unless that was Lily's doing.

He was not the sort of boy anybody would expect the Head Girl to be dating.

Secret dating wasn't even something Molly had ever thought she would be doing. She certainly wasn't the type to constantly make out in public, but she wouldn't hide the fact that she was in a relationship with someone. She had no problems with holding hands and referring to somebody as her boyfriend. This - sneaking around, not telling a soul - felt strange. It felt like something one of her other cousins might do, maybe, but not Molly.

Molly straightened her shirt, buttoning the buttons that had come undone and smoothing her messy hair. It felt strange to be doing this as well; Molly never thought of herself as that type of girl, who came back to the dormitory at midnight, flushed and disheveled. Two years previously - even one year previously - she never would have imagined herself doing this, especially with Casey.

Sighing, Molly headed back to Ravenclaw Tower. Being Head Girl had given her a very good idea of how the patrolling schedules and routes worked, although it felt strange to be using this knowledge to sneak around; it made her feel like Lily or Roxanne, the type of girl who thought nothing of sneaking around and breaking rules. It was a new feeling to Molly. She was proud to say she had only gotten one detention during her entire time at Hogwarts, and that had been in first year, when she got unbelievably lost and wandered into Charms a half hour late. She had never broken a rule on purpose. Until now.

She hid in a niche in the wall and waited for the person patrolling to go into a different corridor; once they left, she dashed up to the door knocker, answered the riddle, and stepped inside the common room. There were a few people still awake, but nobody looked at her twice. She knew that they would assume she had been patrolling, since nobody knew the patrolling schedules except for the prefects, Heads, and teachers. Nobody would think that it was weird for the Head Girl to be coming back to the Ravenclaw common room at midnight.

Molly scanned the common room. Two of her roommates - Irene Corner and Rebecca Smythe - were still awake, but they both seemed to be very busy; they weren't even sitting near each other. Irene was hastily scratching words onto a long piece of parchment, and Rebecca had her nose buried in a thick book that Molly recognized from Arithmancy. Professor Gianno had told them at the beginning of the year to start reading it, but from the looks of it, Rebecca was only getting around to it now.

It was tempting to simply go to bed now, but Molly knew she would never be able to sleep; she was too wound up from her make-out session with Casey. She was proud to say that she didn't have any work that needed to get done at that moment, but the lack of it also presented a dilemma, because it meant she didn't have anything to do.

She was about to resign herself to laying sleeplessly in bed for an hour when Rose - who Molly hadn't seen, tucked away in the corner - called her over. "Hey, Mols," Rose said as Molly sat down in the chair next to her. "I didn't know you were patrolling tonight."

_Shit, _Molly thought. Rose was a prefect; she would have an idea of the schedule. "Last minute change," Molly said vaguely, her gaze darting around and searching for anything she could comment on. She finally noticed the _Daily Prophet _sticking out of Rose's bag. "So, er, what's up with the _Prophet_?"

Molly knew something was up instantly. Usually a question like that would result in Rose raising her eyebrows and saying something about how it made no sense that Molly didn't read the newspaper, since Audrey Weasley - Molly's _mother _- was the editor-in-chief. It had happened before, more than once, and Molly occasionally asked just to get a rise out of Rose. This time, though, there was no such reaction. "You didn't hear, then?" Rose asked, her voice somber.

"Hear what?" Molly could feel her heart racing, and she reassured herself that everyone in her family was fine; she would have been told by a professor if anything serious had happened. "Rose, what happened?"

"The Circle wants information about the Department of Mysteries," Rose explained, keeping her voice quiet. "I'm not sure why - no one is. Probably just because there's so much in there that nobody apart from Unspeakables knows about. But anyway, some Circle members captured an Unspeakable."

Molly inhaled sharply. "Oh, Merlin."

"Yeah. The Unspeakable...he was dropped off at his own house with a note attached to him. Explaining that they would keep looking for information until they got it, and that this would only be the first of many...incidents." Rose looked like she was almost trembling with fury.

"Was he dead?"

"As good as," Rose said bitterly. "He's mad. Absolutely mad. In that section of St. Mungo's with Uncle Neville's parents - oh, don't look at me like that, it's the worst-kept secret at Hogwarts. Word is he was Cruciated until he went insane, just like they were. And the Circle isn't going to stop with him, either - they're not going to stop until they get whatever they're looking for, damn it." Rose shook her head. "They haven't been caught, the people who did this. Everyone knows it's the Circle, but they're so flipping quiet about who's in and who's not, and there's no certain way to tell if somebody's a member. It's not like the Death Eaters, with that great bloody Mark on their arms." She sighed.

Molly felt completely shocked and speechless. She had known the terrible circumstances surrounding Neville Longbottom's parents, of course. Rose was right; it was a terribly-kept secret, considering how information about the war had become vastly public once it was over. Molly knew that it was an absolutely horrible thing that had happened to them, but it had been so long ago that she was almost detached from it. Things like that had happened during the First and Second Wizarding Wars, but Molly's generation was supposed to be safe from that. Hadn't many people in those wars fought for a better future?

The future wasn't much better, apparently. It wasn't safer. And it certainly wasn't less prejudiced, since now people were just as prejudiced against Slytherins and purebloods as those people were prejudiced against Gryffindors and Muggle-borns. Many people thought all Slytherins and purebloods were either ex-Death Eaters, Death Eater spawn, or Circle members. Many Slytherins and purebloods still looked down upon Gryffindors and Muggle-borns. Things hadn't changed, Molly knew, and the world wasn't necessarily better now.

After all, back then, there was Voldemort. Voldemort was certainly a formidable evil, but at least people knew it was him. People knew that he was the one leading the Death Eaters, and it was pretty obvious who was a Death Eater; all someone had to do was yank up another person's sleeve to prove it or not. Molly didn't even know, on the other hand, who ran the Circle of Darkness, nor who any of its members were. None of them had been taken into custody yet; it was a scary thought, because it could literally be anybody.

She realized, suddenly, that Rose was still looking at her, expecting her to say something, and so she pulled words from the depths of her mind and spoke. "That's...I can't believe that happened," she said, shaking her head like Rose had. "It's at the point where I'm scared now. Like, a couple years ago, I didn't really think much of them. The Circle barely existed then, and they weren't really doing anything. I kind of figured they'd fade away. Now...now I'm terrified for everyone. I mean, look at our family, Rose."

Rose looked as though she wanted to kick the table. "I know. The person who defeated Voldemort and his two best friends are all part of our family. Everyone's famous by association, and we have a few Aurors as well - Uncle Harry, my dad, Teddy. Your mum practically runs the _Daily Prophet. _I mean - and I really, really don't want to sound like I'm bragging when I say this - we're bloody famous. If the Circle wanted to do something shocking, we're the family to go for, and it's terrifying. I hate this. I hate how everything changed. It used to be perfect. It used to be how everyone wanted it to be - it used to be the simplicity that people wanted after the wars against Voldemort. Now, we're in a war of our own."

"We are," Molly agreed. She hated how true it was, hated that Rose wasn't exaggerating. This was a war against the Circle now. If it hadn't been before, it absolutely was now. She felt a surge of rage for whatever monstrous humans had tortured that man to insanity; she hoped with all her heart that they would be found, so they could rot in Azkaban. A little part of her even wished there were still Dementors in Azkaban. If anybody deserved Dementors, it was the type of people who had committed that sort of crime.

Rose shut the book that had been lying open on the table in front of her. "I can't take this," she said viciously, and for a brief second Molly wondered if she meant Arithmancy. That thought was shot down within seconds, however, for Rose continued. "I don't want to be at war. I wish everything could go back to the way it was before. Things were so much easier." She slung her bag over her shoulder. "I'm going to bed. At least I'm not dealing with all of this when I'm asleep."

Molly watched Rose go up the stairs to the sixth-year girls' dormitory. She could hear the slam of the door from the common room; a couple of the other people still awake jumped, but Molly had been expecting it. Rose definitely had her father's temper in addition to her mother's brains, and it made for a very interesting mix at times.

She couldn't even fathom how truly horrible the situation was - not only for the man who had been through absolute hell, but also for whatever loved ones he may have had. Molly couldn't imagine going to St. Mungo's and seeing somebody she cared about there, unable to recognize anyone, unable to talk or comprehend anything or read. She couldn't bear to see anybody in that sort of tortured, oblivious existence.

Molly walked up to her own dormitory, nodding at Irene and Rebecca as she walked by them. What Rose had said was true - she didn't have to deal with any of this when she was asleep, and at that moment, Molly would blissfully welcome the blankness of unconsciousness. It was too much to deal with, the silly, inane teenager struggle of Casey Chance as well as the larger problems like being at war. She hurriedly changed into pajamas and sank into her bed, curling up in a ball and silently praying for sleep that didn't instantly come.

She was awake long enough to hear first Rebecca, then Irene, make their way up to the dormitory. They got there within ten minutes of one another, and chatted for a little bit about their respective problems with school - Irene's struggle with Transfiguration, and Rebecca's with Arithmancy. Irene commented on the youth and handsomeness of the Arithmancy professor, Darren Gianno, and for even longer, the two of them discussed his relative attractiveness; he was only five years older than them, after all, and it was obvious that the possibility was tempting to both girls.

It was interesting, Molly mused. The Wizarding world - or, at least, the Wizarding population of the United Kingdom - was at war with the Circle of Darkness. They were at _war. _Yet, in the midst of that - the very same day that a story had broke about a man being tortured to insanity - there were still silly little struggles. There was love and crushes and essays, and for Molly's slightly muddled brain at one-something in the morning, it was an interesting truth - that even in the midst of something terrible, life still goes on.


	7. Albus - September

_September 25, 2022 _

Al's first thought, upon waking up, was that he really regretted waking up.

His head was pounding and felt fuzzy, and his stomach was roiling. Without even opening his eyes, he rolled over, trying to get comfortable so that he could go back to sleep. Even in his muddled state, he knew that today was Sunday, and that there had been a huge party last night in the Room of Requirement, thrown by Slytherin sixth year Autumn Vaisey.

He wasn't expecting to roll into another person.

His eyes flew open, just as the other person grunted and rolled over to face him. Both of them, for a moment, stared at each other in shock. Al was in bed with Leda Lestrange. _Leda Lestrange. _

It wasn't that he held some prejudice against her for being a Lestrange - the daughter of Rabastan Lestrange's illegitimate son, to be exact - or for being a Slytherin. He had gotten over those way back in first year, and the two of them - along with Scorpius Malfoy and Al's cousin Rose - had been friends ever since. It just didn't go beyond that. It never had. Al hadn't thought it ever would; all he allowed himself to think was that Leda was attractive, and that was it.

Al was in Leda's bed in the Slytherin sixth-year girls' dormitory. He wasn't completely sure how he had actually gotten there; so much of last night was a complete blur that he couldn't be sure of anything. In typical teenage boy fashion, Al wished he had remembered more of last night - after all, considering the state of undress that both Leda and Al were in, it had been a pretty good night.

"What the hell happened?" Al breathed.

Leda looked pointedly at his bare chest. "I think it's pretty clear."

Al felt a blush creeping over his cheeks. "Well, yeah, I know - I meant, how did it happen?"

"Well, when two people feel a certain way, they start taking their clothes off, and then the boy puts his -"

Al banged his head against the pillow, which wasn't as satisfying as he had hoped. "You know what I mean! I mean, you and I - you know."

"We were drunk." Leda shrugged. "People do crazy things. I'm pretty sure your brother was practically snogging the couch." She drew the curtain back far enough to see out, keeping the covers pulled over her chest at the same time. "Looks like all my roommates are out. Get dressed."

Al did so, steadfastly avoiding looking at Leda, as tempting as it was. He still wished he could remember more from last night, but at the same time, a new thought rose to the forefront of his mind. This sort of thing...this could ruin a friendship. And as much as Al's friendship with Leda was full of insults and banter, he had known the girl for five years. They were close friends, and Al didn't want that ruined because of a drunken mistake that had led to Al finally fulfilling his secret desires. He couldn't let them become awkward.

When they had both finished, Al stopped Leda before they could get to the door. "I don't want things to be weird," he said.

"I'm the granddaughter of a Death Eater, and you're the son of the Boy-Who-Lived. Things are already weird." It was a typical Leda response, but her heart wasn't in it; it was obvious to Al. "Look," she said after a few beats, "we'll make things work. I mean, we weren't ourselves. We both had way too many shots of Firewhiskey last night."

Al took a deep breath. "So, er, do you remember anything about last night?"

"A bit." She shrugged. Al couldn't help but noticed that her hair - which was usually wild and curly - was even more disheveled than usual. There were a few strands in front of her face that she wasn't bothering to fix, and Al had to fight the urge to get them himself. "More than you, I reckon. You're a bloody lightweight."

"And..." Al didn't know how to finish the sentence he wanted to ask without seeming wildly inappropriate, but thankfully, Leda seemed to understand what he was going to say.

"You were fine in bed, Potter. And yes, I remembered the protective charm. Now, can we please go down to breakfast? I'm starving." She stuck her head out of the doorway, and then pulled out her wand, rapping Al sharply on the head with it. He started to protest, but his protests promptly changed to questions as he looked down at his body; he could no longer see himself well.

"Did you just - was that a Disillusionment Charm? How the hell do you even know how to do that?" Al knew that Leda studied practical magic outside of classes, but they hadn't even been back at school a month.

"I practiced over the summer." She tucked her wand back inside her robes. "My house has wards on it that prevent the Ministry from detecting anything they shouldn't. And if you say one word about me or my parents using Dark magic, I will hex you."

Al held up his hands, although he realized too late that Leda couldn't even see him. "Hey, I wasn't going to say anything."

"Yes, because it would be so unlike you to mention my family's association with the Dark." She gestured to the door. "Come on. And don't make noise."

"Don't want to show me off to all your Slytherin friends?"

"More like I don't want them all to rag on me about getting some," she said dryly. "Besides, what if your sister's in the common room? You want her to know what happened?"

Al made a face. "Definitely not. She'd never let me hear the end of it. But hey, when will you take the charm off of me? I can't go to breakfast mostly invisible, you know."

"I'll take it off once we get out of the dungeons. Come _on._" Leda led him out of her dormitory. Only a few people were in the common room; everybody else, it seemed, had already gone down to breakfast. Al recognized one of the people in the common room - Autumn Vaisey, the girl who had thrown the party. She was one of Lily's close friends, he knew, which was the only reason why he had ended up with an invitation.

When Leda and Al had walked a little ways away from the Slytherin common room, she rapped him on the head with her wand again. A warm feeling trickled down his spine; looking down at his body revealed it to be completely visible again, and he breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He trusted Leda's ability with magic, for the most part, but it had still been an extremely disconcerting feeling to not be able to see himself well.

The two of them were silent as they walked to the Great Hall. There was tension in the air; even Al, who had been called 'clueless' multiple times, could tell. He knew he had to resolve this with Leda, and soon, or else things would stay awkward permanently. He couldn't have that. It was bad enough with Rose and Scorpius, who were hiding their relationship from almost everybody. They were awkward enough occasionally. He couldn't have him and Leda be that awkward as well.

They split up once they entered the Great Hall, going to their respective House tables. Leda sat down next to Scorpius with the Slytherins, and instantly started talking to him; Al couldn't help but wonder if she was telling Scorpius what had happened between them. Rose, with the Ravenclaws, waved to both Al and Leda; they both waved back, and it was obvious to Al that both he and she were trying to act as normal as possible around everybody else.

Al was glad that none of his roommates mentioned his absence. He wasn't sure if they knew but were polite enough to avoid the subject - which, knowing teenage boys, was doubtful. There was also a chance that they had spent the night in somebody else's room, or even in the common room - or just that they, too, had been so completely smashed that they hadn't even noticed. Al couldn't be sure whether all of his roommates had gone to the party or not; there had been so many people there that Al couldn't be sure.

Thinking about spending the night in Leda's room brought up another question, and he frowned. Boys, as far as he knew, couldn't enter the girls' dormitories; the stairs turned into an impossibly slippery slide. He remembered trying, in first year, just to see if the rumors had been true. They were, and he had been teased by his roommates for months afterwards about him trying to get into some girl's room at the age of eleven. How, then, had he managed to bypass that? He knew Leda would have been with him, but just walking up the stairs with a girl didn't guarantee a boy access.

Deciding to ask Leda that when he talked to her - _which will be soon_, he thought stubbornly - he focused on eating breakfast. He was hungry, after all - apparently the events of last night had given him an appetite. Nobody commented, though, and he breathed a quiet sigh of relief. His roommates hadn't noticed, and his fellow Hufflepuff cousins were all distracted. Lucy was writing in a journal on her lap, Hugo was reading a book, and Louis was reading a letter written on Muggle paper. They were otherwise occupied, and Al was able to get through breakfast without further comment.

It was a weekend, and so Al didn't have to worry about going to classes. That was a relief; he didn't think he could bear to focus on schoolwork today. Rose and Scorpius left the Great Hall soon after each other, leaving without a word to anybody else. Al could only assume the reasons they were going off together; he didn't particularly want to dwell on those reasons, because thinking of his cousin and his best friend together was decidedly not a pleasant mental image. He had no problem with their relationship. He just didn't want to think about it going any further than hand-holding.

"Leda," he called as they left the Great Hall in a throng of students. She turned at the sound of her name being called, catching sight of Al, who waved. She approached him, running a hand through her hair, which was only slightly more tame now. "Leda, can I talk to you?"

"Let's go outside." She waited until they were almost halfway around the Black Lake - well out of earshot of the few people who were outside - before turning to him. "Before you say anything, I don't know, okay? I don't know what to do about this any more than you do."

"How can you assume I don't know what to do?"

Leda raised her eyebrows. "No offense, Al, but you aren't exactly the smoothest bloke in the world. I know you're not sure where to go from here."

"You know me way too well," Al grumbled, only half-serious.

"I know." Leda was silent for a moment.

"So," Al said, deciding to ask his less-important question before actually discussing the big issues, "how exactly did you get me up to the girls' dormitory?"

"Out of all the things to say to me right now," Leda said, "you choose that?"

"I'm just curious."

"Mum told me how," Leda said, "but I'm not telling you. It's not really something that should be spread around the school." She sighed. "_Anyway. _The way I see it, we have two choices. Either we completely ignore that we had sex, and just go on being friends, or we start a relationship. That's basically it - as much as you can be an idiot sometimes, I really don't want to be awkward around each other for the rest of our lives."

"Or, until you go to Azkaban and I become an Auror," Al said cheekily.

"For Merlin's sake," Leda said, "is this really the time? You are _such _a bloke."

"You didn't seem to mind that last night, from what I can tell."

Leda stared upwards for a moment, a pointedly long eye-roll. "Potter. Focus. Seriously."

"Sorry. Hey, look - if you wanna, you know..." Al stared at the ground, suddenly awkward. Bantering with Leda was one thing. He was used to that; it was comfortable, familiar, natural. Having serious conversations, though, wasn't. He was never serious with her. It was just too easy to bait her, just as it was too easy for her to tease him. It was just a part of their friendship. When it came to this, though, this was different, and Al wasn't as at ease. "Er. If you want to go to Hogsmeade together and stuff - go on dates - I could be cool with that."

"You could be cool with that? Wow, you're so romantic."

"Look," Al said, "what little I remember of last night was amazing. And for a while I've thought you're, you know, really hot and pretty. We - I don't mind spending time with you. At all. You're - you're pretty cool, for a Slytherin." He took a deep breath. "Leda, if you want to date, I wouldn't mind at all. I'd like it."

She cracked a smile. "It's a good thing I'm not really one for huge romantic gestures, then," she said. "So, are we on for the next Hogsmeade weekend?"

Al nodded. "I guess we can double with Rose and Scorpius, you think?"

"Yeah, sure. Although you might have to watch Rose and Scorpius hold hands - you think you'd be up for that?"

"Hey, Rose is my cousin - I don't want to see her and Scorpius making out. I've never had a problem with them holding hands."

Leda smirked. "Scorpius is my cousin, too, and I don't say 'Gross' every time they do something remotely couple-ish, like you do."

Al grinned. "Well, that's that whole pureblood thing talking. I mean, your cousins all end up marrying each other, so watching one of them make out with somebody can't be too bad."

"You know, by the loosest definition of the word, you're pureblood, too," Leda pointed out, and for the moment, everything felt right and normal again.


	8. Rose - September

_September 27, 2022 _

"There must be some way to make this more efficient." Rose Weasley scanned the list of patrollers. "There's just not enough of us. The professors won't let any of us patrol between two and five in the morning, because it's too late for us, apparently, and there's not very many of them, either - so during that time, there's usually only one or two people patrolling! It's infuriating." She folded her arms, looking around at the other prefects. They were all openly staring at her. "Oh. Sorry."

"No, no, it's fine." Molly, Rose's cousin and the current Head Girl, picked up the piece of parchment. "You're completely right. It's smart to patrol the area around the common rooms, like we do, but there's still multiple students sneaking out - or just staying out after curfew. With us staying near the common rooms all the time, how would we know if somebody stayed in a classroom all night long and never returned to the dormitories?"

Fifth-year Sylvia Nack - a Hufflepuff that Rose didn't know well - spoke up, her voice timid. "Why would somebody stay in a classroom all night?"

"If they were having sex with someone," said Cordelia Davies bluntly, adjusting her Slytherin tie.

Sylvia blushed, and Rose hastily jumped in. "Um. So we need some way to ensure that everybody is in either the common rooms or dorms after curfew, and that they stay there. Anybody got any ideas?"

Nobody answered. It seemed as though they were all deep in thought, but that nobody could come up with any concrete ideas. Rose understood; she couldn't think of anything either. She wished that she could come up with some way to revolutionize the patrolling system. If she did, she would be a shoo-in for Head Girl, something that she definitely wanted. She knew the odds were against her, however. Both Dominique and Molly had been Head Girl, and it would look like favoritism on the part of the Headmistress if she chose three Weasley girls within a five-year period.

"All right," Molly said finally. "It's getting late anyway - only an hour until curfew. Everyone's dismissed - try to think of ideas, though, of something we could do." She made a note on the log of when the meeting ended; Rose, sitting right near her, could see it. The prefects all filed out, most of them with the person from the same year and House, but Rose didn't go with Ling Xi. She went in the opposite direction; instead of going to Ravenclaw Tower, she found her way to the library.

Leda, Al, and Scorpius were already there. The four of them had been meeting in the library since first year. Since they were in three different Houses, they had to find some neutral place to meet, and Rose - in typical Rose fashion - had suggested the library. They had found a table in the back near the Restricted Section; the light there was dim enough where few people wanted to study in that area, and as a result, they could talk as long as they weren't too loud. Leda had even carved their initials into the table back in second year, and now, on one side of the table, there was a noticeable 'LL - AP - RW - SM' engraved into it.

Rose took a seat beside Scorpius, across from Al and Leda. "So," Leda said, "how was the prefects' meeting? Was it just boring, or did it cross the line into terribly boring?"

"We - it wasn't boring. We want to be more efficient at patrolling and keeping people from wandering around after curfew," Rose explained.

Leda made a face. "Merlin, Rose. That is the most dull thing I've ever heard. You sure you're not a fifty-year-old professor in a teenager's body?"

"Leave her alone," Scorpius said, glancing around before intertwining his fingers with Rose's. "I think she's brilliant."

"Hey," Leda said, "I never said she wasn't. I just said prefect meetings sound incredibly boring."

"Thanks, Scorpius," Rose said pointedly.

"No problem," Scorpius replied, glancing at his watch. He clapped his hand to his forehead. "Shit."

Rose's forehead furrowed, and she glanced at the time as well. It wasn't late; there were still forty-five minutes left before they all had to be in their common rooms, which gave them forty minutes to hang out and five to return. There weren't any problems that she could see. "What's wrong?"

Scorpius hesitated for a moment, and then said, "I said I'd meet Lily fifteen minutes ago."

Rose frowned. She knew Scorpius and Lily were friends, and although she didn't have any objections to it, she didn't appreciate Scorpius ditching her to hang out with Lily instead. "Can't it wait? I just got here. You two can hang out in the common room after curfew, can't you?"

"I know. But I promised Lily almost a week ago that I'd help her out with this, and this is the time she wanted." His eyes darted around before pressing a soft kiss to Rose's lips. There seemed to be feeling in it, as far as Rose could tell, which slightly eased her annoyance. "I'm really sorry. I promise, I'll catch up with you soon." He squeezed her hand before releasing it, standing up, and hurrying out. Rose watched him go before turning back to the others.

"What's he helping her with?" Rose directed the question more toward Leda. As Slytherins, Leda and Scorpius got more chances to talk, since they could be in the common room together. As far as Rose knew, Leda and Lily were also friendly, and Rose hoped that Leda could share some insight.

Leda avoided Rose's gaze. "Nothing important."

Rose felt a flare of anger, and she slammed her hand down on the table, making Al jump and Leda flinch. "What's going on?" It was difficult to keep her voice quiet, and only remembering that she was in a library made her able to do so. "Scorpius and Lily aren't - they wouldn't -"

"No," Leda said, sounding sure. "They aren't together, I swear it. It's just...look, you're a prefect, okay?" She didn't seem thrilled to have this conversation, and Rose narrowed her eyes. "And Lily likes to come up with things - plans, practical jokes, you know. If you knew...she thinks you'd report her or get her in trouble. She doesn't trust you with this."

"And Scorpius doesn't either?" Rose forced herself to sit back down. "I mean, come on. We're in a relationship - I think he should trust me."

"He does," Al pointed out.

"Yeah, but he won't tell me this."

"Because he doesn't think it's important." Leda sounded exasperated. "And it isn't. It's just a prank."

"Are you part of this too?" Rose looked between Leda and Al.

"I am," Leda said. "Lily asked me the other day. I'm not - well, you'll see. I'm not a major part of it like Lily is. And Scorpius, I suppose."

Rose shook her head. "This is so incredibly weird," she said, putting her head down on the table.

Al laughed wryly. "What part? You and Scorpius? Me and Leda? Or just the prank?"

"Life in general," Rose said.

o0o0o0o

Rose was scheduled to patrol that night from eleven until twelve-thirty. She had volunteered for it when nobody else had, but now, she was regretting it. Walking back and forth in front of the Ravenclaw door was intensely boring, and it was making her tired. It was only eleven-fifteen - which wasn't _too _late - but the boredom was setting in, which changed things.

She sighed slightly, and after a few more moments, wandered away from Ravenclaw Tower. It was much more difficult, she found, to patrol on her own. At least with someone else, they could talk, even if it was about meaningless things like how terrible of a teacher Professor Binns was. Being alone was terribly boring, and Rose wished that she had begged Molly or one of the others to stay on the shift with her. _Oh well, _she supposed, _too late now. _

Rose didn't intend to go any particular way, but she found herself walking farther and farther away from Ravenclaw Tower. She kept an ear out for the sounds of anything suspicious, but most of her mind was focused on how it did actually feel pretty cool to be walking around after curfew. She was completely allowed - the list showed it, and she would be able to prove it if a professor happened to question her - and it brought a certain feeling of invincibility. It felt good, and she allowed herself to bask in the feeling as she got closer and closer to the Great Hall.

It was then that she heard the voices.

She recognized them instantly; she had heard them both often enough over the course of her life.

"You think there's enough people?" Lily asked. Rose peeked around the corner. Scorpius and Lily were standing in the Entrance Hall, near the doors to the Great Hall, their heads bent over a piece of parchment.

"I think there's more than enough," Scorpius replied. "I mean, if you think you can get more, that's cool, but I don't think we really need any more than that. A bunch of us are going to get detention as it is - there's no way that all of us are going to get out of this. We'll be making a decent amount of noise, after all."

"It'll be worth it, though." Lily tucked the parchment inside her pocket, causing a loud crinkling sound.

Rose started to step forward - after all, Lily and Scorpius were outside their common room after curfew - but she forced herself back. There was no way she was going to do that to her cousin and boyfriend. It went against all her instincts as a prefect and as a wannabe Head Girl - and, it was also tempting because she was still wary that Scorpius preferred Lily - but she didn't want to do that to them. It would only alienate Scorpius further, if she reported him or deducted points herself. He wouldn't break up with her over that - she hoped - but it would cause a fight.

Slowly, she backed away, leaving Lily and Scorpius to their planning. She was still dying to know what was going on with Lily - what plan or practical joke this was all about, and when the results of it would be evident - but she knew she wouldn't be able to find out until the rest of the school did. There was no way that Lily - or Scorpius, probably - would let her in on this, even if Rose admitted that she had broken the rules and not turned Lily and Scorpius in for being out late. Rose would have to wait and find out with the rest of the school, just like she had when someone - either James or Lily - turned the Great Hall hot pink.

Rose was heading away from the Great Hall when she nearly bumped into a half-running Professor MacDougal. The professor was dressed in normal robes, her hair flyaway, and she looked to be in an intense hurry. "Professor!" Rose said. "I'm sorry - is something wrong?"

Professor MacDougal's gaze shot over to Rose. "I'm going to assume you're on patrol, Miss Weasley, because I don't have the time to yell at you for being out late. I have to leave Hogwarts, but I'll be back for Defense classes, as long as everything goes well. Good night." She nodded at Rose and rushed off again.

Rose couldn't help but wonder what would happen if the professor came across Lily and Scorpius in the Entrance Hall; she seemed to be in enough of a rush where she didn't particularly care, but having two non-prefect students out at this time was vastly different than seeing a prefect whose patrolling schedule was unknown, Rose knew.

She had almost made it all the way back to Ravenclaw Tower when she spotted Molly. Molly looked disheveled, her robes done up wrong, her face flushed. "Rose!" Molly gasped, and her eyes widened. "I didn't - I didn't know you'd be here."

"Of course I am," Rose said, frowning. "Didn't you look at the patrolling schedule? I'm on until twelve-thirty - what are you doing out?"

"Er...replacing you!" Molly said. Rose could practically see the idea jump into her brain, and she looked at the older girl skeptically.

"What're you up to, Molly?"

Molly rolled her eyes. "Nothing. Come on." She practically dragged Rose the rest of the way back to Ravenclaw Tower and shoved her at the door.

"Molly, I can do it, you know. I volunteered."

"I want to," Molly said, and Rose, with a sigh, headed back in. It seemed as though everything now was weird - was there anyone, or anything, who was still normal?


	9. Lucy - September

_September 30, 2022 _

Lucy tickled her chin with the feathery portion of her quill, a pensive expression on her face. She was well aware that it was getting late, and that she should be heading back to the Hufflepuff common room, but she couldn't bring herself to do so. As much as she enjoyed her House, she had to admit that they weren't the quietest bunch sometimes. There was no way she could find peace and quiet in the common room; there was no way she could write in there like she wanted to.

Even worse than the noise was the people who would no doubt pry. Lucy was a quiet person, for the most part, and she didn't appreciate people - even people she knew - coming up to her and poking their noses into her business. It was bad enough that everybody in her House knew that she carried a book around and wrote in it. She didn't want them all to ask her exactly what she was writing. She had already dealt with that enough, and she didn't feel like dealing with it any more at that time.

She dipped the tip of the quill into the ink as she reread her last sentence. '_There was a hesitation, and then Jack spoke, his words tumbling from his mouth as swiftly as a river flowing downstream.' _A brief smile crossed over her face as she envisioned the scene playing out in front of her - Jack, flustered and anxious, trying to tell Laurel what he was talking about. She could see the characters in her mind so clearly, and she knew what she wanted to happen next - but dammit, why did it have to be getting late? She was nearing the end - if only she had a few more hours, she might be able to finish it.

A shadow fell over her, and she glanced up to see the librarian, Madam Turpin. Her blonde hair was streaked through with grey, and her eyes had that same look that most of that generation carried - the look of somebody who had grown up much too fast, who had seen things that a teenager shouldn't see. "Miss Weasley," she said, her voice soft but firm, "it's almost curfew. I'm going to have to ask you to leave and go to your common room."

Lucy bit back a sigh and collected her things as Madam Turpin returned to the desk. Only one other person besides her remained in the library, a boy near her age who was also putting away his things and preparing to leave. Lucy moved past him, nodding at Madam Turpin as she passed by and out into the corridors.

It was late enough so that few people were still out. Most people, Lucy knew, tended to return to their common rooms earlier; there simply was not a whole lot to do outside of them, minus doing inappropriate things in classrooms or studying in the library. It felt strange to be out this late; the halls were dimmer than Lucy was used to, and she nearly tripped more than once making it to the common room.

She was almost tempted to stop by the kitchens - she had missed out on dinner in favor of writing her book in the library - but the nearness of curfew dissuaded her. Lucy was no Lily or James; she didn't have the guts to stay out after curfew, even if it was only a few minutes, and she wasn't even sure if the elves would make her anything this late. Ignoring the rumbling of her stomach, she hurried inside the common room. Louis and Hugo were talking - or rather, Hugo was talking animatedly, and Louis was doing his best to listen, it seemed - and Al was lounged on an armchair, squinting at a large book and looking as though he would rather be anywhere else.

The common room was as loud as she had expected. There was no chance she'd get any writing done in here - an infuriating thing, since she was so close to the end - and the chance of her getting anything done in the dormitory was even less. In Lucy's mind, her roommates were strange; they never wanted to hang out with her outside of the dormitory, but when they were all there, they took turns pestering Lucy and asking her numerous nosy questions. If she took out her book and started writing in front of them, they'd no doubt rip it from her hands and start reading it.

There was a chair by itself in the corner of the common room, and Lucy made a beeline for it, sinking into the soft cushioning of the armchair and taking out her book again. There was no chance she was going to be able to write, but at least if she could look it over a bit -

She flipped to the first page and frowned. Was '_There was nothing Jack could do to relieve his boredom' _really the best way to start a book? Or would that just cause potential readers - _as if there ever would be any - _as much boredom as Jack was feeling in that particular scene? She couldn't tell. She didn't have a lot to compare it to; her father wasn't particularly generous at buying her fiction books, whether Wizarding ones or Muggle ones, simply because in his eyes, they served no purpose. She couldn't imagine his reaction if he knew she was writing one.

Speaking of his reaction...she let out a sigh. It probably was a good idea to look at the letter she had received that morning. Molly had gotten one too, although knowing Molly, the contents of the two girls' letters would be vastly different. Molly, Lucy thought bitterly, was the perfect daughter for Percy Weasley. She was Head Girl, she was in Ravenclaw, she was intelligent and competent and sensible. She would never 'waste her time' with writing a novel - no, she was too busy studying to be whatever it was Molly wanted to be. Probably Minister of Magic, knowing her.

Lucy made a face and pulled the letter from her pocket, where it had been sitting since morning. It was crumpled from being stuffed in Lucy's pocket, but she smoothed it out and ripped the envelope open, pulling out the letter.

_Dear Lucy, _it read, beginning innocuously enough.

_I do hope your first month at Hogwarts has gone smoothly, and that you are doing well. I know after the terribly long summer holiday, that it can be difficult to get used to Hogwarts life again, but I sincerely wish that you are re-adjusting properly. This is your OWL year, and as a result, it is dreadfully important that you devote as much of your time to studying as possible. This year determines what subjects you will be taking the next two years, and therefore determines what you will be doing for the rest of your life._

_I haven't been able to find it yet, but I know I have a timetable that I created, a detailed schedule that showed me when to study for what subjects. It helped me greatly, and I plan to mail it to you once I have discovered it. I know I wouldn't have thrown something so valuable away. If I can't find it, I suggest creating a study timetable of your own, or asking Molly to create one for you. _

_I wish you luck in your studies, and will see you over the Christmas holidays._

_Your loving father,_

_Percy Weasley _

Lucy stared at the letter for a moment, shaking her head. Her father had referred to a study timetable as 'something so valuable'. Not for the first time, she wondered why him and Aunt Hermione hadn't ended up together - after all, the two of them seemed to be identical in many ways. She remembered Rose complaining during her OWL year about all the 'help' that Aunt Hermione insisted on giving her; now Lucy was dealing with the same thing from her own father.

She didn't even know how to respond to a letter like that. It would have been easy for Molly, who probably would have been pleased with getting a timetable of when to study, but not for Lucy. The prospect of getting something like that was unbelievably dull. It, she figured, was probably planned down to the minute; she could just envision it now. _7:28pm to 8:33 - study for Potions. 8:33 to 8:41 - clean up Potions books and take out Defense books. 8:42 to - _

Lucy's mental mocking was interrupted as Louis plopped down on the arm of her chair. "Hey, Luce. How's the novel?" He nodded toward the book. Louis was one of the only people who knew exactly what she was writing; she felt comfortable telling him. He wasn't much of a reader, and so the chances of him asking to read it were slim to none anyway.

"Er," she said, "it's okay." She wasn't sure how to describe it. On one hand, she adored writing it, and thought of the novel as almost like her child; on the other hand, she doubted herself and her ability to write something good, even though she was nearly finished.

"I bet it's more than okay," Louis said. His gaze darted down toward it again, but he didn't make an effort to pick it up or try to read it from there. Lucy appreciated that. His hand moved instead toward the letter she was holding, his finger flicking against it. "Oh, Merlin, what did Uncle Percy say this time?" He looked concerned, and a small smile crept across Lucy's face. Louis knew her well - knew how she didn't usually appreciate her father's letters.

"He wants to give me his old study timetable," Lucy answered. "Thankfully, he didn't say a whole lot else. I was worried there was going to be a bunch of comments in there about this year being the year when I would have to make up my mind about what I want to do after Hogwarts." Even with Louis, it felt strange to be saying so much. Lucy didn't consider herself to be a talkative person, and although she was better around family, that didn't necessarily mean a lot.

"But you do know what you want to do after Hogwarts." Louis tried to recline on the back of the chair; he lost his balance, and had to catch himself before he fell to the ground. Lucy couldn't help but chuckle. "You're going to get that published, and you're going to make more money than the rest of us combined because of your kick-arse-ness at being an author."

Lucy raised her eyebrows. "'Kick-arse-ness'? Really, Louis?"

"It's true," Louis said staunchly.

"You've never even read anything of mine."

Louis shrugged. "I've seen your essays. And you've helped me with my essays. You're really good at that - so it would make sense for you to be good at that -" he nodded his head toward the book - "as well."

She sighed, setting the book on the arm of the chair that Louis wasn't sitting on. "Thanks. I just don't know - you know my dad. He'd never want me to write fiction. He might be okay if I wanted to be a journalist like Mum, but this...I want to do it, but I don't know if I can."

"You can," Louis said firmly. "You'll be an amazing author, you know. I believe in you - you know we all do." He nodded at Al, who was still reluctantly engrossed in the thick book, and at Hugo, who was taking notes from an equally large book. Lucy vaguely wondered if Hugo was doing schoolwork, or if he was researching because he wanted to. Just as Lucy wanted to write novels, Hugo wanted to write a detailed account of the wars against Voldemort - an account that didn't leave anything out, didn't glorify anybody's actions. It was a very complicated project for a fourteen-year-old boy to take on, but Lucy knew Hugo, history freak that he was, could do it. "Look," Louis continued, "I don't want you to think Lily's rubbing off on me too much here, but sometimes you have to do what you want, not what your parents - or, well, one of your parents - want."

He did almost sound like rebellious Lily in that moment, and Lucy couldn't help but smile, but the smile was brief. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I just hope...I hope I'm good enough to publish things."

Louis's eyes darted toward the book again, and then back to Lucy, an expression on his face that she couldn't decipher. It was almost a Lily-esque expression, the look of somebody who had suddenly come up with a clever plot or a scheme. "You absolutely are," he said, and then stood up. "I wanted to ask you something," he said. "Can we go over there?"

The area where he was pointing was the other end of the common room, even more deserted than the area where they were standing, and Lucy tilted her head slightly, frowning. "It's secret?"

"Yeah. Lily - well, I don't want to reveal too much where everyone else can hear us." He tugged on Lucy's arm, and she got up, following him to the other end of the common room. Louis had to bend over slightly in order to talk to Lucy, who was almost a head shorter than him. "Okay," he said. "Lily's planning this huge prank on Halloween night. She wants as many students as possible to meet in the Great Hall at eleven PM on Halloween."

"I'm not - you know I'm not like Lily and James."

"Neither am I," Louis said, and Lucy knew he had a point. "But so many people are going to be involved, Luce - she said it's going to be amazing. And it's not like you ever get in trouble, besides. I'm pretty sure the rest of the family - well, probably not Molly and Rose, but everyone else - is involved, too. You in?"

Lucy sighed. As much as she loved Lily - family was family, after all - she really didn't want to get involved in the other girl's schemes. She much preferred to hang out with Lily during the summers, when there was a much smaller chance of pranking. It was true, though, that Lucy never got in trouble - even if she was caught breaking curfew with fifty other students, it wouldn't be too much of a big deal, since it was her first offense. She shook her head. "I can't believe I'm saying this, Louis, but fine. I'm in. We need to tell Lily, or...?"

"Nah. She invited me and told me to get whoever I could. I don't think it really matters to her who ends up coming, just as long as nobody's going to blab." He shrugged. "Well, I'm going to bed, anyway - damn school making us get up stupidly early. You going, too?"

"I suppose." Lucy and Louis headed toward their respective dormitories. Lucy was the first one there, to her surprise, and after hurriedly changing into pajamas, she figured she'd get a bit of writing done while she could. "Oh, hell," she muttered, looking at the pile of school robes on her bed. She had left her book in the common room. Not caring about the fact she was wearing pajamas, she hurried out of the girls' dormitory and back into the common room, back to the chair where she had been sitting.

The book, which had been sitting on the arm of the chair, had disappeared.


	10. Louis - October

_October 1st, 2022 _

Louis turned over the book in his hands, flipping to the first page, where Lucy had signed her name. She had small handwriting that toed the line between messy and neat, but her signature - _Lucy Olivia Weasley - _was clear enough. He sighed. She was going to kill him for this. It had been a risky decision - a risky plan, as well. He had been sure that Lucy noticed when he had come up with the plan; he had felt his eyes light up, felt his back straighten slightly and his body tense up. He wasn't the most subtle person in the world.

The actual plan had worked perfectly, however. Lucy had left her book on the arm of the chair, and he had dragged her away from it to tell her about Lily's Halloween scheme - and then said that he was going to bed, and was she? That had been the riskiest part of it, because he couldn't be sure if Lucy was going to forget her book, but she had. After that, it had been simple to head toward his dorm, and double back when he was sure she was in hers. He had grabbed the book, raced to his dormitory, and hidden it underneath his pillow.

At breakfast, Lucy had asked him about it, but he had played it cool. He could tell that she didn't even think he knew where it was; she was just asking in the hopes that he had seen something. Nobody would ever expect Louis to come up with a scheme; he wasn't intelligent enough, even if his mother told him otherwise. He wasn't stupid - he would never sink low enough by calling himself stupid - but he didn't have the academic brains of Molly or Rose, or the scheming, mischievous mind of Lily or James.

He did, however, have the mind of a boy who wanted to convince his best friend that she was worth something, that her writing was good.

He had told Lily between classes to meet him in the Room of Requirement. It was Lily's favorite meeting place, he knew - it was private, soundproof, and comfortable. He hadn't been in there very often, since he and Lily didn't generally meet up, and there was no other reason for him to enter it besides meeting with Lily, but he knew where to go.

Louis didn't have the talent for making the Room's structure that Lily had; she entered five minutes after him, looking slightly disgruntled at the bare walls with peeling paint, at the two hard chairs that sat across from one another, a small, high table separating them. "You are kidding me," Lily said, but she slung her bag down to the floor and sat on one of the chairs. Her feet didn't even touch the floor. "So, Louis. I know you didn't just call me in here to catch up on old times. What, exactly, do you need?"

Louis reached into his bag and pulled out Lucy's book, sliding it across the table to Lily. She inhaled sharply upon seeing it, but checked the first page anyway, nodding as she saw the signature. "Why do you have this?" she asked, folding her hands on top of it. "And - more specifically - what exactly do you want me to do with it?"

"Lucy doesn't think she's a good writer," Louis said.

Lily waved a hand. "I need more than that, Louis."

"So I was thinking...er...if I let a bunch of people read her book, then - "

"You were thinking? Louis, that's - no. I don't do stuff like that."

Louis folded his arms. "What do you mean, 'like that'? You don't do _nice things _for people?"

She huffed. "That's not 'nice', Louis. I know you don't have permission from Lucy to be spreading this around - I know because you have that face on, that guilty face. Not to mention the fact that Lucy practically sleeps with this thing so that nobody takes it." Louis didn't even question how she knew that - that was typical Lily for you. She knew things that a normal fourth year shouldn't. "Why are you even asking me for help? This isn't a prank, or a scheme, or one of the things people generally come to me for."

"You have connections, though," Louis said.

"I'm not in the freaking mob, Louis. I do not have 'connections'." A mental image of Lily as a Muggle mobster popped into Louis's mind; it was surprisingly easy to imagine. "If I have permission from Lucy - and that is face-to-face permission, before you ask - then I will help her to spread this around Hogwarts. I'm not doing this without her, though. I see absolutely no need to spread something around simply because you think it will help improve her _self-esteem._"

Louis sighed. _This _was when Lily decided to get moral on him? Was this honestly the same girl who used the Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map to sneak to the Restricted Section at one in the morning and read up on illegal curses? "Lily-"

"No, Louis. It's not happening." She slid off of the stool and collected her bag.

"Why," Louis said, "are you so against this? You aren't some - you don't exactly live by a high moral code, Lils."

"Don't call me Lils," Lily snapped, so quickly it almost seemed to be an instinctive reaction. "And first of all, my morality - or, as you seem to think, my lack thereof - is absolutely none of your business. Not to mention, I draw the line at targeting my own family members with a scheme that I know they will not enjoy. I may be a lot of things, Louis, and I may do a lot of things that you might find appalling, but I will not harm my own family." The door slammed behind her, and Louis was left there, shocked.

He had to admit, he was expecting Lily's full participation - even excitement - in the matter. She always seemed to be plotting something, and it seemed to be a pleasurable activity for her. She loved pranks and schemes and plots - he only had to bring to mind her Great Halloween Thing, as he half-jokingly referred to it in his own mind, and that alone was a perfect example of Lily being Lily. For her to turn down an opportunity...it was strange. He knew she was perfectly willing to help people with schemes; it gave her leverage over people that she could often use to her own advantage, to ask for favors when she needed something. Helping him with this would have given her that same sort of leverage over him - and yet, she didn't take it.

He shook his head. _Girls._

He stuffed the book back into his bag, preparing to leave, but a thought occurred to his mind. Lily might not help him - but that didn't mean he couldn't do this on his own. After all, Lily did most of her schemes alone, and although Louis might not have her brain, this wasn't the most complicated thing in the world, either. He set the book on the table, and took out his wand, tapping it. "_Gemino._"

He repeated the process.

Several minutes later, Louis was sitting there, a stack of books piled precariously high on the small table. He wasn't sure exactly how many copies were necessary; distributing it widely was ideal, but he wasn't entirely sure how he could do that. His circle of Hogwarts friends extended to his cousins, roommates, and the Hufflepuff girls in his year, namely - although there were others that he would talk to, those were the only people he considered friends, and that wasn't a very large range of people.

His mind flashed to Michelle - a Muggle girl, who lived in the town near Shell Cottage and had become friendly with Louis on frequent trips to the beach - but then he shook his head. He didn't even know what the contents of Lucy's book were; he couldn't ask Michelle to spread it to Muggles. Ah, well. Louis flicked his wand at the stack, tucking Lucy's original copy back into his bag and making the large stack bob along behind him as he left the Room of Requirement.

The first person he came across was Lily's friend, Autumn Vaisey - a Slytherin in his year. He flicked his wand again, murmuring, and one of the books flew right into her hands. She jumped, rolling her eyes at Louis, but seemed more interested in what the book actually was then what Louis was doing with it. He continued along this way for a while, giving the book to whoever he happened to pass by, and when he had only a couple left, he resorted to holding the copies, shoving them into people's arms. He had one left when Lucy came along. "You found it!" She smiled, snatching it from him. "Thanks, Louis - where'd you find it?"

"Er, in the common room," he lied. "I was looking for you." It felt weird lying to Lucy; she was generally the only person whom he felt he could be entirely truthful with, but this was something he couldn't tell her. He knew it would get back to her at some point, what he had done, but he sincerely hoped that by that time period, she had heard wonderful things about her book from practically the whole school, and then she wouldn't be mad at him.

She nodded. "Well, I should go write as much as I can before I have to start on that Potions essay. I'm just so glad you found it and not someone else." She breathed a sigh of relief. "See you, Louis!" She dashed off, looking a lot happier than Louis had seen her in a while, and he sank against the wall. _What had he done? _

His newfound insecurity about his plan was what caused him to write the letter. He had, initially, been insecure about writing Michelle during the school year. She was a _Muggle. _ But then, when Michelle had shown up at the Weasley-Potters' end-of-summer party and witnessed a few things she shouldn't, Louis had ended up explaining everything to her. None of the adults knew about it - and thankfully, none of the responsible Weasley-Potters had been around, and it wasn't as though Lily, Roxanne, James, Lucy, Al, or Hugo was going to tell.

He went into the library to write the letter; nobody was going to pester him in there, like they would in the common room. He didn't trust his roommates to keep his letters private, and he definitely didn't want them reading it. Michelle was his own little secret - his cousins knew the fact that she _knew, _but they didn't know her at all. Louis planned to keep it that way.

Louis never thought of himself as a particularly wordy person - he had difficulty whenever a professor assigned a three-foot essay - but something about Michelle brought out the more talkative side of him. It might have been because she was a talkative person himself; she wasn't sure.

_Michelle, _he started, because putting 'Dear' felt like it was going into areas that he wasn't sure about.

_I don't know what happened. I think...I don't know. I did something that seemed like a great idea at the time, and now I'm not sure about it. My cousin - Lucy, the short blonde one - is writing a book. And she loves to write, but she's just really unsure about her writing. She thinks that it's not that great. I've never read her book, but I've seen her essays - hell, she helps me with mine - and I know she's a great writer. I tried to reassure her, but she didn't really listen. Besides, how can she trust me when I say her book is awesome, if I've never read it._

_I made copies of it. About seventy, I think, but I lost count around twenty-five. And then I spread those copies around to a bunch of students here, just basically shoving it at them and hoping that they'll read it. I mean, it's their decision to, but chances are if someone shoves a book at you, you're going to at least look at it. I was hoping that they'd all read it, and then beg Lucy to tell them the ending, and that they would tell her how awesome it was. And then Lucy came up to me, and she just looked so incredibly happy that nobody had gotten hold of it apart from me. _

_I don't know what to do now. It's too late to take all the copies back. I know this isn't really your strong point, either, because you said that you don't do schemes, but...I'm not sure. I guess I just wanted somebody else to tell me what to do, because right now, I think that I screwed up, and I might not be the best person to decide what to do. _

_-Louis Weasley _

He mailed the letter almost instantly, hurrying to the Owlery and borrowing one of the school owls. The delivery of letters had also been a concern in writing Michelle, but she had assured him that her parents were gone for almost the entire day, and that the only window left open in the house was Michelle's second-floor window. There would be little-to-no chance of her parents seeing an owl bring her a letter, and so Louis had consented to write.

As he watched the owl fly away, bringing Michelle tales of his possible screwup, he was glad he had.


	11. Hugo - October

_October 4th, 2022 _

"And," Hugo said excitedly, shifting the stack of books in his arms, "you know, so many of my relatives and their friends were part of the Second Wizarding War, so I have a whole list of people that I can interview about their experiences." He smiled down at Sylvia Nack, who looked absolutely interested in what he was saying. She was the first person he had met who seemed genuinely curious about his plan to write about the First and Second Wizarding Wars.

"Who have you interviewed so far?" she asked. Her voice was quiet; he wasn't sure if that was simply because it was a library, or because that was her natural voice. They were in the same year, but Sylvia was a Ravenclaw and not particularly outgoing. Hugo had never had a conversation with her before. She was a tiny little thing, barely five feet tall and stick-thin, and Hugo - who didn't consider himself particularly tall - felt like a giant next to her.

"Nobody yet," he answered. "The things I've written down so far are all from books. I feel like a lot of people are reluctant to talk about the war to fourteen-year-olds, and so I was thinking that I would wait until I was of age before asking too many questions. A lot of dark stuff happened, after all - stuff that the survivors might not be willing to admit to me."

Sylvia opened her mouth to answer, just as Al showed up, stepping between the two of them. "Hugo," he said, "You need to come back to the common room."

"I'm in the middle of something," Hugo said, shooting Al a dirty look. "Sylvia, this is my cousin Al. Al, this is Sylvia."_  
_

Al quickly glanced over at Sylvia. "Hi," he said; she murmured a response, and then he turned back to Hugo. "Louis and Lucy are waiting. Come on."

_You have got to be kidding me, _Hugo thought. He had found the one person who was actually interested in his lifelong project, and now his cousin was showing up and interfering. With a heavy sigh, he nodded. "Fine," he said to Al. "Sylvia, I'll see you later - I'd, um, like to talk again sometime?"

"Sure," she said softly, giving him a small wave as Al half-dragged him away.

"What is your problem?" Hugo said as soon as he was sure that there was no chance of Sylvia overhearing him. "Mate, if you didn't notice, that was a girl. Who was talking to me."

Al rolled his eyes. "Your love life is absolutely none of my concern, you know. Lucy wanted to talk to us - you heard about her book being spread around the school, right?"

"Yeah," Hugo said. "I've got a copy sitting in my dorm - my roommate got hold of one, and I asked if I could read it. How'd Lucy do it, anyway? No one's really supposed to sell stuff, I thought."

"She didn't do it," Al answered. "That's the thing. Someone else did - and Lucy didn't give them permission." They reached the Hufflepuff common room and entered it. Hugo instantly saw Louis and Lucy, the two blond heads bowed together in the corner. Four chairs were set up, and Hugo and Al slipped into the empty ones. "I found Hugo," Al said, and the other two looked up.

"Good," Lucy said. "You know what's going on, right?" she asked him, and Hugo nodded. She looked a little crazed; there was a wild look in her eyes that he had never seen before from her. "Yeah, well, I really hate this." She sighed, and Louis - looking a little nervous - patted her arm.

"Any ideas who did it?" Hugo asked.

Louis took a deep breath. "I...have no idea."

"Why don't we ask somebody who got a copy where they got it?" Hugo said. It seemed like the simplest answer to him.

"I tried that," Lucy said, "but it's been spread around a lot, apparently...I don't know anybody who got a copy that hadn't been passed around a lot." She shook her head, making her hair fly around her face. "Merlin, this is infuriating. Nobody's supposed to read that! It isn't even _finished_." She furiously wiped her eyes, and Hugo leaned over, worried that she was going to start crying. He felt bad for her; he could understand not wanting people to read an unfinished work, but he also felt a bit jealous that people wanted to - and had - read Lucy's book. Absolutely nobody was interested in Hugo's, apart from Sylvia.

"Just think," Louis said, unnecessarily cheerfully, "when you publish it, you'll already have hordes of fans."

Lucy hit him with her book bag. "I'd never get published, you dolt!"

Louis looked like he was about to say more, but at that exact moment, Isaac - one of Hugo's roommates - entered the common room. Hugo watched him look around, and then the other boy made his way over to where the four Weasley-Potters were seated. "Louis, right?" Isaac said. "There's a girl out there who wants to see you - Slytherin, blonde, kinda hot."

Louis furrowed his brow, but nodded. "Thanks," he said, turning to the others. "Be right back."

"Oh, no," Al said. "I'm coming out there with you. I have to see this." He nudged Louis. "I mean, if you get beat up by some Slytherin girl, I want to preserve the moment in my mind forever, and then save your stupid arse."

"Shut up," Louis said as Hugo also got up. "Oh, you're _kidding _me. You too?"

"Yes," Hugo said. "Me too. C'mon, Luce - who knows what this girl wants from Louis?"

Lucy cracked a smile at that, and the foursome made their way outside, to where the Slytherin girl was leaning against a wall. Hugo recognized her: Autumn Vaisey, a year above him, and one of Lily's close friends. She was leaning against the wall, trying to look unconcerned, a copy of Lucy's book dangling from her pale hand. "Weasley," she drawled, walking over to Louis and shoving the book into his chest, "thanks for the read. You can have this back." She looked over at Lucy. "For a Hufflepuff," she said, "you can write."

She sauntered away in typical Slytherin fashion, and all eyes turned to Louis, who had gone white, the book still held to his chest. "_You?" _Lucy said, her voice an octave higher than normal. She backed Louis up against the wall; Al and Hugo stood aside. Hugo was torn between simply watching the confrontation and worrying that Lucy was going to curse Louis right there. From the look in her eyes, she seemed tempted. "You did this? You passed out copies of my book to the whole school?"

"Not the whole school," Louis said, his voice a bit squeaky, "just about seventy people."

"You made seventy copies of this?" Lucy was a whole lot smaller than Louis - smaller than all three of them, actually - but in that moment, she was a force to be reckoned with. Hugo felt exceptionally glad that he was not on the receiving end of Lucy's anger, although he felt bad for Louis. "Why on earth would you ever do that to me?"

Louis took a deep breath. "Because you thought your writing was shit," he said bluntly. "Because you didn't have any confidence in yourself. I know you're brilliant, Lucy - and I wanted others to know that, and most of all, I wanted you to know that."

Hugo looked from one to the other. He could almost see Louis's point; at the very least, he could understand Louis's reasons for doing what he had done. Hugo had seen the way that Lucy often had little faith in her own abilities, and the thought behind Louis's idea, at least, was a nice gesture. His heart was in the right place, Hugo supposed, even if his head wasn't. "You didn't even think, for a second, that I might want to keep this private?" Lucy said. "That I didn't want other people reading what I wrote? Louis, this book isn't even finished. You spread around my unfinished, unedited book to the whole _freaking _school without asking my permission - and, apparently, without even stopping to consider if I might want you to do this or not."

"I'm sorry I hurt you," Louis said, and he looked sincere. "I'm not sorry I did it, though."

Lucy's hand inched toward her pocket. Hugo drew in a sharp breath, wondering if she was actually going to curse Louis, wondering if intervening would be a smart decision. She dropped it, though, and stormed away. Louis moved slightly to go after her; she whirled around at his first step. "Screw you!" she spat, and this time, nobody followed her.

"It was a bit of an idiot move," Al said.

Louis merely looked at him. "Yeah. Thanks." He sighed. "It seemed like such a good idea at the time. And I still am glad I did it, but..." He looked in the direction that Lucy had gone. "Merlin, I don't want her to hate me forever."

"She's not going to hate you forever," Al said. "I mean, for a little while, yes. But not forever."

"You aren't helping." Louis shook his head. "I should go."

He hurried off in the same direction Lucy had gone; Hugo vaguely wondered if he was headed to find her. It might not have been the smartest idea in the world to try and find her, considering the mood she was in. Hugo figured it would actually be better if he or Al went after Lucy, since she hadn't seemed to have any problem with either of them, but he supposed it didn't matter. If Louis got himself hexed, well, that was his own fault for being impulsive and running after an angry girl. Hugo was only fourteen, but he had seen enough angry women in the Weasley-Potter home to know that a bit of space was best.

Hugo exchanged a glance with Al. "Louis is going to get himself hexed," Al said grimly, and then headed back inside the common room, Hugo trailing behind him.

For a while, the two boys sat in silence; Hugo took notes from the books that he had taken out of the library, and Al read that day's _Daily Prophet. _"Merlin," he said, "the Circle is really going after Unspeakables," Al said, putting the paper down. "About a week ago, some woman went missing - an Unspeakable. They're suspecting Circle involvement, of course." He shook his head. "Hate to say it, you know, but I'm just glad that none of our parents are Unspeakables. Makes me feel just a little bit safer."

Hugo shrugged. "Your father is Harry Potter. My parents are his two best friends. We aren't safe." He gestured to the books in front of him. "People are targeted for who they are, you know, and -"

Al sighed. "If you're going to start explaining rationally why our whole family is going to end up dead, Hugo, I'll hex you right here."

Hugo held up his hands. "Sorry. Just saying." He tilted his head slightly, looking at Al. "I mean, you should be pretty safe, though - with the Lestrange girl being your girlfriend. I'm guessing her parents are in the Circle - who knows, she might join up soon, too - and they probably won't go after their daughter's boyfriend, anyway."

Al thumped his head down on the table. "I don't want to think about Leda being connected to the Circle, and I have no idea about her parents. I don't want to think about how it's logical that our whole family will be attacked. Can you _please _talk about something halfway normal?"

Hugo only chuckled. "Is there such thing as normal?"


	12. Lily - October

_October 8th, 2022 _

It was satisfying to know that the plan Lily had created for October thirty-first - which she was referring to in her mind as the Great Halloween Debacle, although she knew the name would not become widespread - was all set. She had asked everyone she wanted to ask to be a part of it, and she was now officially done with recruiting people; she could sit back and relax and wait for Halloween to come.

For once, she didn't have anything else going on in terms of schemes and pranks. In the back of her mind, she was still looking for ways to get Roxanne and Alexandra together, but apart from shoving them in a broom closet and locking the door, she had no idea. That was something that was going to have to wait, at least for a little while; as much as she wanted to help them, matchmaking wasn't completely her area of expertise, and she needed to devote more time to planning something for them.

She felt restless and bored, not having a scheme to work on. She always had a scheme to work on - in that way, she was more like her brother than she truly cared to admit. Turning the Great Hall pink had been an ingenious idea, she had to admit; it had been for that reason that she had consented to let him borrow the Marauder's Map. Lily appreciated all clever pranks, even the ones that were done by her brother.

Unsure of what to do next, she rummaged in the drawer of the table by her bed, once again picking up the Auror pamphlet that Autumn had gotten for her. Because Autumn was a fifth year, she was allowed to go to the professors and ask for career pamphlets at any given time during the year, even though the official Careers Advice meeting wasn't until much later. Lily had asked Autumn to get an Auror one, and she had done so, giving it to Lily as soon as she had returned.

Lily couldn't be sure exactly what the draw was to being an Auror; she couldn't put her finger on it. It wasn't that she wanted to be just like her father - in fact, she had spent the past few years of her life ensuring that she was no female Harry Potter. She didn't count herself as having some high moral code, either; she wasn't one of those people who was insistent about people getting punished for the littlest things. The best explanation she could give was that it seemed interesting. Lily Luna Potter was not one to sit at a desk all day and file paperwork about cauldron leakage. She needed to do something, something real and potentially dangerous and definitely exciting, and being an Auror was the closest thing that fit those needs.

The door opened suddenly, and Lily dropped the pamphlet back into the desk as a girl strolled inside. "Did you hear?" she said, with no 'hello' or otherwise normal greeting. That was relatively typical for Autumn, however; she almost never bothered with greetings.

"I've heard a lot of things," Lily said, shutting the drawer as Autumn threw herself down onto a bed that wasn't hers. "Which one are you referring to?"

"Somebody tried to break into the Ministry of Magic," Autumn replied. "Somebody, as in a Circle of Darkness person. The theory right now is that he was going for the Department of Mysteries." A shadow crossed over her face; her father was an Unspeakable, Lily knew, and Autumn had to be worried sick about him. "They captured him, though. It was in the _Prophet _this morning - you didn't see?"

"Daisy stole my copy," Lily said. Daisy Nott and Lily went back and forth between being friendly with one another and being bitchy to one another; there was no in between. Lily wasn't even totally sure how it had started. "So, anything else about this bloke? How much did the _Prophet _reveal?"

"Not as much as I would have liked," Autumn replied. "They didn't even publicize who the son of a bitch actually was - don't know his name, don't know his face, nothing." Lily had a sneaking suspicion that Autumn's hatred of the Circle came almost entirely from the fact that they were targeting Unspeakables; she doubted that Autumn would have cared so much if they had been going after a different profession. Despite the fact that Autumn's dad could be very absent sometimes, she still loved him; Lily saw it clearly the one time she had visited.

"They'll probably show it soon," Lily said vaguely, hoping to reassure Autumn. Such a thing wasn't easy, of course, considering the single-mindedness that Autumn seemed to share with Gryffindors. "Not to mention, this bloke might rat out a bunch of other members, as well. They haven't really captured too many Circle members before." She flopped back onto the bed. "Anyway, since you're in classes with them, I have to ask. Is Lucy still pissed at Louis?"

Autumn's voice was muffled by the pillow that she now had her head on, but Lily was able to understand the words. "I think so. She was either avoiding his gaze or giving him a death glare, so I'm taking it that's a yes."

"I told Louis his plan was stupid," Lily said, examining a fingernail. "He asked for my help, and I told him no, so he went and did it alone." She shrugged. "Anyway...are you good at coming up with matchmaking schemes?"

Autumn raised her head off of the pillow to look at Lily. "Since when do you care about Hogwarts dating life?"

"It isn't for me," Lily responded. "I told somebody else I'd help with their love life. Of course, I said this before I had a concrete plan, which might not have been my best idea ever."

"'Might'?" Autumn said drily.

"Shut up," Lily said idly, grabbing a comb and running it through her hair. "So, will you help?"

"Who is it?"

Lily sighed. It was extremely tempting to tell Autumn - for one thing, the girls were best friends, and secondly, it would be easier to come up with plans if they both knew the couple they were trying to help. Roxanne hadn't given permission for her to tell anybody else, however, and that was something she didn't want to violate. She liked Roxanne - especially for a Gryffindor - and she didn't want to annoy her. "I can't tell you," Lily said. "So can you think of any generic matchmaking schemes that might work on anybody?"

Autumn stood up, heading towards the door; as she had her hand on the knob, she turned, looking toward Lily. "I'll try to come up with something."

"Thanks," Lily responded, and Autumn was gone.

She rummaged in the drawer and pulled out a handheld mirror, which she held up to her face, examining her hair specifically. It had once been the orangey-brown color that people claimed was red, but the previous year she had gotten hold of Muggle hair dye and dyed it a brilliant scarlet color. The color contrasted sharply with her Slytherin robes, and also - to her delight - nobody in her family had the same color hair. It was just another way that Lily had set herself apart. She set the mirror down; her hair wouldn't need to be touched up for a while, considering that she had re-dyed it on her first night back at Hogwarts.

For a little while, she worked on a Transfiguration essay; there was nothing better to do, and despite her proclaimed dislike of schoolwork, it was important to do well if she wanted to be an Auror. It had surprised people at first when Lily Potter, a troublemaker since the first day, had turned out to do well in classes. She was failing History of Magic - who wasn't? - and barely scraping by in Astronomy, but everything else she was decidedly passing. Her essays were average, but she was proud of the practical work she could do. _And, _she would always reassure herself, _practical work is what's important to become an Auror, anyway. _

When the essay was finished, she amused herself for a little while by imagining a scenario in which she and James were both Aurors, and she was a better Auror than he was. Feeling like a typical little sister, she smirked at the thought, and then took out the Marauder's Map to study it. The map was, potentially, the most interesting object she had ever come across, and it was completely invaluable in her quest to know everything there was to know about Hogwarts and its residents.

She kept a piece of parchment nearby with her, as usual, as she looked at the map. All new observations would be written down on that piece of parchment, so that she would remember to investigate them more fully later on. As she watched, she noticed the dots of Albus Potter and Leda Lestrange vanish in a seventh-floor corridor; that would have been more interesting if she didn't already know that the Room of Requirement was Unplottable. It also would have been more interesting if it didn't imply that her brother was getting laid in a few minutes, a mental image she definitely didn't want to have.

For a while, there was nothing of note on the map, and she was just about to put it away when she noticed her cousin Molly's dot stop next to Casey Chance's in an empty corridor, and stay there. She hadn't been aware that the two of them knew each other; they were in the same year, but Lily had never seen them interact. Casey was one of James and Roxanne's friends, and Molly never hung around with that crowd. James, Roxanne, Casey, and Alexandra were much too wild for Head Girl Molly.

As Lily watched, the two dots both disappeared into an empty classroom, and they stayed there for a suspiciously long time. Lily dipped her quill in ink, and promptly wrote down '_Molly + Casey?' _on the parchment. That was an interesting thought, the two of them; Lily couldn't picture two people who were any more different, and who were a more ridiculous match. Molly was _Head Girl._ She behaved herself. Lily doubted she had ever even gotten a detention in her life. Casey, on the other hand, was in detention more often than he was out of it - very much like James in that respect - and he had a propensity for the sort of inappropriate comments that tended to make a girl like Molly blush.

She had never seen them even interact, which intrigued her even more. Molly and Casey were - presumably - together, if the amount of time they spent in that empty classroom was any indication. They had been in there about a half hour: a suspiciously long time to have a private conversation. Lily knew exactly what they had been doing in there, and she was over ninety percent sure of it. Molly had a secret boyfriend - or, at least, a secret shag. This, she thought, was definitely something that required further investigation.

Nothing else prompted her interest (apart from the fact that Leda and Al were only in the Room of Requirement for fifteen minutes; she hoped for Leda's sake that they had simply wanted to have a private conversation, because even Lily knew fifteen minutes wasn't long), and she put the map away along with her parchment, the parchment that said nothing more than the possibility of Molly&Casey.

She sighed and relaxed back onto her bed, hoping that Halloween - and therefore the Great Halloween Debacle - came soon.

* * *

_Author's Note: I just wanted to thank all of those who have reviewed. I don't tend to respond to individual reviews, simply because most of them warrant nothing more than 'Thank you', but I would like to let you all know that I am extremely grateful for the feedback and for your interest in this story. Thanks to every single person reading, enjoying, and especially reviewing this story._

_I would also like to note that the next chapter will once again be from Victoire's PoV, and therefore the rotation will begin again._


	13. Victoire - October

_October 10, 2022 _

There was a slight popping noise as Victoire Lupin Apparated into Hogsmeade. For a moment, she was tempted to look around - when was the last time she had been to Hogsmeade? - but she promptly shook her mind free of that thought. She had an important appointment with Penelope Clearwater, and she couldn't afford to be late. She had been surprised enough that Professor Clearwater had consented to talk with her in person; last time they had contacted each other, back at the end of August, the Headmistress had been vehement that Hogwarts did not need a mind-Healer.

Victoire set a brisk pace for herself, not stopping to admire the autumn scenery as she passed by. The air was cool, the wind nipping at her face and hands, but it wasn't completely freezing. At the rate she was going, it didn't take her long to reach Hogwarts, and when she was finally standing in the Headmistress's office, it was exactly four-thirty, the time that they had agreed upon to meet.

"You may sit," Professor Clearwater said, gesturing to the chair on the other side of the desk. Victoire sat down across from the Headmistress, and for a moment, neither woman spoke again. It was Professor Clearwater who finally broke the silence. "I originally thought you - and the other mind-Healers, wherever they may be - should devote all of your time to helping my generation, and the one before it, since we are the ones who lived through..." She hesitated slightly. "Voldemort's reign. We are the ones who lived through war. But now, it's happening again. I didn't want to believe it. Isn't living through one war enough?"

Victoire didn't know what to say to that; she could assume that the Headmistress wasn't even expecting a response. "Have you reconsidered having me here?" she asked instead.

Professor Clearwater looked at her; there was a sadness in the older woman's eyes that was clearly visible to Victoire. "My generation is messed up," she said. "All of us - we've seen things, done things, that we shouldn't have had to. And most of us had to struggle through it alone - or, if we were lucky, with a family member or close friend. We had no help, Mrs. Lupin. Perhaps, with you here...you'll make it so that these students are better off than we were." She nodded at Victoire. "I've already checked into your credentials, and everything seems in order. Would you be able to start tomorrow? I will need to make the announcement to the students tonight."

Victoire felt a thrill go through her. She had a real job now - and it was a real job doing what she wanted to do with her life. She would be able to truly help people, especially in this time, with a new war approaching steadily. She had wanted to work as a mind-Healer since she had been in Hogwarts, and now, finally, she was getting the opportunity to do so. "Tomorrow would be wonderful, Professor," she said.

Professor Clearwater nodded, back in business mode already. "You will be required to be available to the students here from three o'clock to ten o'clock. We have spare rooms if you wish to live here - or even stay for just a night or two, if necessary - but you are not required to live here. I will show you the room you will be using; you may furnish it however you wish."

Victoire followed the other woman out of the Headmistress's office and down the stairs; she led her to a spacious empty room right near the hospital wing. Victoire glanced around; it was certainly large enough to serve her needs. "Thank you," she said, although she meant it for more than just the room. "This is perfect."

"I'm glad," Professor Clearwater replied. "I must get back to my office now. Let me - or any of the other professors - know if you need anything. Welcome back to Hogwarts, Mrs. Lupin."

"Thank you, Professor."

The other woman had been on her way out the door, but she paused at Victoire's reply, and turned back around. "You are a Hogwarts staff member now," she said, "not a student. Whenever the students are not around, call me Penelope."

"Then call me Victoire," Victoire replied, and, nodding, Professor Clearwater - Penelope - left.

For a moment, Victoire stood there, looking around the room and plotting exactly how she would furnish it. She wanted two armchairs - one for herself and one for whatever student she happened to be helping. It was much more comfortable than the cliche patient-laying-on-a-couch idea, and since she probably wouldn't be doing any group sessions, there was no need to have an abundance of furniture. It would also be helpful to have a desk to keep all of her paperwork in, and perhaps a picture or two on the walls so that they didn't look so sparse.

She made a mental note to Apparate over to the furniture store later that night. There was one Wizarding furniture store that Victoire knew of; the fact that they Apparated with the pieces made delivery much faster, and Victoire didn't trust her own skill at conjuring up things that large.

"Victoire Weasley, is that you?" a voice said from the doorway, and Victoire turned her head fully to see who it was. There was a tall, slender woman standing there, streaks of gray in her chestnut hair. It took Victoire a second, but then she recognized the woman: Morag MacDougal, the current Defense professor. MacDougal had become the Defense teacher in Victoire's last year.

"It's Victoire Lupin now," Victoire said. "Good to see you, Professor."

"Morag," the woman replied, loping into the room. "I take it you're Hogwarts' new mind-Healer?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

"Penelope told me that she had scheduled a meeting with you about you potentially working here." Morag's gaze darted around the room. "Congratulations on getting the job. Hopefully it'll be easier than mine."

"You're having difficulty teaching Defense?" Victoire's brow furrowed. Morag had been one of the students who had taken advantage of Kingsley Shacklebolt's offer to jump right into Auror training, and she had remained an Auror up until her switch to teaching. She was pretty sure, as well, that Morag worked as an Auror during the summer, and occasionally whenever they needed her.

"Oh, not that. I'm having a problem with the Aurors Floo-calling me all the bloody time. It's ridiculous, the fact that I have to keep staying out until two in the morning, and then come back and wake up at seven to teach Defense." She shook her head. "Sorry. You probably don't really need to hear this."

"Don't worry about it," Victoire said. "My husband - Teddy Lupin - is an Auror, so I'm kind of used to hearing about them."

"Teddy Lupin," Morag said. "The Metamorphmagus. Merlin, that's still impressive to me."

Victoire nodded in agreement. Metamorphmagi were rare enough that Victoire had never seen any besides Teddy, although she knew that more were out there; Teddy's own mother had been one. "Me too," Victoire answered.

"Anyway," Morag said, "I'm glad you'll be working here, Victoire. Think you'll do the students a hell of a lot of good, being here. Merlin knows I could have used a mind-Healer when I was in seventh year." A dark, faraway look passed over her features. Morag's seventh year, Victoire realized, must have been the year that the Death Eaters Alecto and Amycus Carrow had taken over Hogwarts. That had been the worst situation that many of the students were in; they had made the school a terrible place to be. Morag shook her head as if to clear it, and then continued. "I should be going," she said. "I'll definitely see you around. Oh, and tell your sister Dominique that all of us Ravenclaws miss having her around - she helped us win the House Cup three straight years."

Victoire couldn't help but laugh. "I will," she said. It was true; Victoire had been there at the time. While Dominique certainly hadn't been responsible for the wins, it was a running joke among the Ravenclaws - and even some other students - that Dominique's know-it-all behavior, complete with constantly doing things excellently in class, had helped them along the way. She had earned a substantial number of points for them, something that Victoire, also a Ravenclaw, had enjoyed.

She left as well, going in the opposite direction as Morag and finding her way out of Hogwarts. Had she been younger - or even if she had just been someplace where nobody would see her - she would have let out a victory cheer. She had a position at Hogwarts. It was the best thing that had happened to her in a long while.

She Apparated back home, started supper, and sat in the living room to wait for Teddy. He came home on time - six-forty was on time for him now, if not early - and instantly shot her a curious look. "You look thrilled," he said. "Did the appointment with Clearwater go well?"

"I got the job!" Victoire couldn't help her excitement, and she flung her arms around Teddy. He squeezed back, picking her up off the ground and spinning her in a circle. She squealed. "You brat! Put me down!"

He leaned over and kissed her. "I'm so happy for you," he said. "I know this is what you wanted."

"It is!" Victoire couldn't help the wide grin that crept across her face. "Oh, this is wonderful! And I don't even have to live there, either - I'll just Apparate there and back, simple. Oh, Teddy, this is wonderful! With both of us working, we'll be able to do so much." Both Victoire and Teddy had refused to accept any more money once they had gotten married, claiming that there was a big difference between helping a struggling teenager fresh out of Hogwarts and helping a married adult couple. They had been struggling - although not poor - almost the whole time. "Maybe even..." Victoire let the words trail off.

"What?"

"Do you think with both of us working, we'd be able to try to have a baby? You think now we could handle it?"

Teddy nodded. "We would absolutely be able to support a family with both of us working. My Gran - and all of the Weasley-Potters, basically - would be able to help out with watching, er, him or her while we were at work, and I'd be able to swing by after I get out and bring baby home. Vic, we're going to have a little Lupin!"

Victoire twined her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, pouring her heart into it, nothing more important than her and Teddy in that moment. He responded back with equal passion, and they fell onto the couch, still kissing, Teddy holding himself over Victoire. After a couple of minutes, he pulled away as his stomach growled. Victoire, in such a happy mood as she was, burst out laughing. "I think your stomach doesn't agree with the rest of you on what to do right now," she said, still giggling.

"Continue after supper?" Teddy said, offering his hand to pull Victoire up off of the couch. Hand-in-hand, they went into the kitchen.

"I'm thinking yes," Victoire said, twirling around. "After all, we want a little Lupin."


	14. Freddie - October

_October 10, 2022 _

Freddie glanced over at Isabel Rovsky as he dismounted his broom. She was sitting on one of the benches, working on some paperwork that Freddie could assume was intently dull. He couldn't imagine how somebody could focus on paperwork, of all things, when people were practicing Quidditch. Of course, Freddie couldn't imagine how somebody could focus on anything when people were playing Quidditch overhead, but still.

"Pay attention, Weasley!" Coach Bellevue said, and he snapped his gaze away from Isabel and back to the situation at hand. Despite his reprimand to Freddie, Coach Bellevue didn't talk for a particularly long time before dismissing the team. The others filed away to the showers, but Freddie went in the opposite direction, sliding onto the bench with Isabel on it. He kept a little distance between them, partially because of his sweatiness.

It was a few moments before she slid the papers into the bag next to her and looked at Freddie. "What are you doing here?" she asked, looking decidedly unimpressed. Ever since the first day, she had avoided him, always walking away before he could approach her. He felt a slight twinge of success that she hadn't left yet and that she was actually speaking to him.

"I just wanted to say hello," Freddie said. Dominique's original advice from last month - to not push her, to just be friendly with her before trying to take it to romance - came back to him. "So, hey."

"Hello, Weasley," she said, standing up. "Bye, Weasley."

"Wait," Freddie said, standing up as well. He couldn't help but notice how he towered over her. "I think, er, I made a bad first impression or something. Because you don't seem to like me very much, and I'm sorry about whatever I did."

"You didn't do anything to me directly," Isabel said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "It's more the fact that you have a different girlfriend every month. That you're rich, and famous, and you don't do anything good with those gifts. No, you just amuse yourself by seeing how many girls you can shag in the course of one year, and in my mind, that's a sad, sad lifestyle."

Freddie's mouth dropped open. He couldn't remember the last time somebody had talked to him like that, and as much as he didn't want to think that he was spoiled, he realized with a start that he might actually be. Isabel was right about the fact that he didn't do anything with his money or his fame; he had never thought to, since very few people actually did anything good with those things. He knew that he went through girls quickly, as well, but that was only natural for a Quidditch player. The amount of fans meant that there was almost always somebody there, somebody interested, and Freddie's youth only helped in that respect.

"Oh, look," Isabel said. "Pretty boy's becoming self-aware." She turned, starting to walk away, but Freddie caught up to her. She stopped, facing him, throwing her hands up. "What do you want? Look, I don't fancy you, and I don't want to go to bed with you no matter how much you pay -"

"I don't pay girls to sleep with me!" Freddie said, folding his arms. "And I wasn't going to try to get you to go out with me. I was just...I don't want you - or anyone, really - to think that I only care about Quidditch and sex. Which is why I want to be friends with you. Just friends."

"Oh, you're kidding me," Isabel said. "Do you honestly think I'm that stupid? You're just going to get me close to you, and then you're going to convince me to go out with you."

Freddie sighed. That had originally been his plan, but there was something about Isabel - something infuriatingly interesting - that made him want to be close to her, even if it didn't mean that he got to have her as a girlfriend. "I promise," he said, "I won't ask you out. Just try hanging out with me a few times. If it's really so torturous to be around me, well, I'll quit bothering you."

She held up three fingers. "Three times," she said. "I'll meet up with you - on a strictly-friendship basis - three times. If I still dislike you after that point, we part and go our separate ways. You don't come up to me anymore; you don't interact with me unless I'm asking you something for Coach Bellevue. Deal?" She stuck out her hand, and Freddie shook it.

"Deal. So, er, when did you want to get together?"

Isabel took a deep breath. "I have absolutely nothing to do tonight," she said, "so if you want to meet tonight, then I'm fine with that. Unless you're busy with...someone." She said the last word distastefully, as though the idea of Freddie being with a girl was almost disgusting.

"I'm not," he said. It was the truth. He hadn't actually had a girlfriend after Rachel had broken up with him; he didn't count the few one-night stands that he had had, nor did he particularly feel the need to tell Isabel about them.

She glanced at her watch. "How about seven-thirty?"

Freddie looked down at his Quidditch uniform, grimy with sweat. "Yeah, that'd be good. I definitely need time to change. And shower."

Isabel smirked. "Yeah. So, where do you want to go, Weasley?"

He shrugged. "Your choice."

"Florean's sound good to you?" The ice cream place, which had closed during the war, had reopened in 2000. Florean Fortescue no longer ran it, but the new owners had kept the name as a tribute.

"I'll never say no to ice cream," Freddie said, and Isabel - despite herself, it seemed - chuckled.

"All right," she said. "See you there."

* * *

He was surprised that he had managed to get there on time. Freddie had ended up going home to take a shower and change, instead of doing it in the changing rooms. It had taken him nearly an hour before the water started to get cold, at which point he had to rush around to get ready, as it was almost time to leave at that point. To his own astonishment, though, he had Apparated in front of Florean's right as his watch showed seven-thirty. Isabel was already there, seated at one of the inside tables.

"Wow," she said, looking impressed. "You showed up...and you showed up on time."

"No need to sound so surprised," he said. "What flavor do you want? I'll order for us, if you save the table."

"Strawberry chocolate swirl," she said almost instantly, with the ease of somebody who knew their favorite.

He stared at her for a moment. "Girl after my own heart," he said. "That's what I'm getting, too."

She rolled her eyes, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she propped her feet on the other chair. Freddie smiled widely at her and strolled up to the front, ordering quickly and paying for both of them. The place wasn't extremely busy; there wasn't as much of a demand for ice cream on an October night as there was in the summer, and there were only a few other customers in the building besides Freddie and Isabel. He took the two ice creams back, handing one to Isabel and keeping the other for himself. She used one hand to hold it, the other rummaging in her bag; she came up with five Sickles, which she pushed across the table. "That's what it costs, right?"

Freddie stared at the money, then at her. "You don't have to pay," he said, pushing it back. "It doesn't cost much, and -"

"We're not on a date," she said, licking her ice cream cone in a manner that, for a moment, distracted Freddie. "So you're not going to pay for me. I don't need charity from the big rich Quidditch star, thank you very much." She stared at him, obviously determined, dropping the money into his hand. "Yes, I know you don't need it; no, I don't particularly care." She folded both hands around the ice cream. "That's going to melt if you don't eat it, you know," she said, nodding to his own.

Sighing, he shoved the money into his pocket and started eating. Isabel had good taste; strawberry chocolate swirl was his own favorite flavor as well. He hadn't just gotten it because she had, although it wouldn't have been the first time that he did something like that with a girl. He had a feeling, though, that his normal moves wouldn't work on Isabel like they would on his usual girlfriends. "So," he said, "you're a Quidditch fan?"

She shrugged. "Little bit, I guess. I didn't follow it as much as most people, though - I went to Durmstrang, so I didn't get as much of a chance to follow the sports here."

"You went to Durmstrang?" Freddie's eyebrows shot up. That was a mental image he was having difficulty with. Isabel didn't really seem like the Durmstrang type. He had heard about the school's Dark reputation, the way it taught things that weren't legal to teach to students at Hogwarts, and he couldn't really picture her in that environment.

"Yes," she said. "I did. My father went there, and he thought it was better than Hogwarts. I don't know a whole lot about Hogwarts, but I'm inclined to agree with him. So much happens at Hogwarts, it seems...it's stricter at Durmstrang, so there's less opportunities for trouble."

"So you know the Dark Arts?" The question popped out of Freddie's mouth before he could stop it; he winced, wondering if Isabel was going to stand up right there and walk out.

She stayed seated, however, eating more ice cream before responding. "I do," she said. "No, I won't do them on anybody, so don't worry your little Gryffindor head." She chuckled at his bemused expression. "Just because I didn't go to Hogwarts doesn't mean I don't know about the house system, Weasley."

He held up his free hand. "Freddie. If we're going to be friends, call me Freddie."

Isabel nodded, agreeing to that faster than he thought she would. "Just one question," she said. "I can assume your name is really Frederick, or Fred...why do you go by Freddie? Most people would have dropped that nickname the second their age entered double digits."

He shrugged. "I was named after my dead uncle, who always went by Fred," he said. "I'm not him. I don't really want people thinking I'm just like him. Going by a different name...I feel like it just separates me from him a little bit, and it makes things easier. Plus, my dad...I reckon he could never call me 'Fred'. Fred and my dad were twins, and, well, he was grieving for a while. I don't know if my dad could ever call me by his dead twin's name, but Freddie is a little easier to say."

Freddie stared at her, trying to make sense of her expression. Surprised? Impressed? He couldn't be sure; he was never as good at reading people as some of his cousins. It was a few beats before she responded. "I think I was a little bit wrong about you," she said. "There's more to you than I thought. I'm sorry."

"I'm not angry," he said, and felt a beautiful burst of victory.

* * *

_Yes, Isabel went to Durmstrang; it is not an all-boys school. That impression is merely because of the movies, just as Beauxbatons is not an all-girls school. Not to mention, even if it was an all-boys school, chances are that would have changed by the time Isabel would have begun attending. _


	15. Dominique - October

_October 12, 2022 _

For what felt like the hundredth time, Dominique glanced at her watch. She and Patrick had arranged to meet up at this restaurant - a Muggle one that he knew of - at seven-thirty, which gave them both enough time to get ready after work. They hadn't truly gone out in what felt like a while; they had stopped over each other's flats a few times, and conversations at the Ministry were now much more common, but she couldn't recall the last time they had gone out. Their last official date might even have been before their disagreement in September, when he had called her boring after she refused to sneak out of the Ministry with him. She felt as though that day marked a change in their relationship - a change for the worse.

It was now seven forty-five. If she had been meeting with somebody else, she wouldn't have been worried, but Patrick had never been the late type. He was always just like Dominique - either showing up early or precisely on time, but never late. _Damn Aurors, _she thought, startling even herself. They had been the ones to change him, she was sure of it; he hadn't been like this during Hogwarts. The Patrick she had known never would have asked her to sneak out of the Ministry during work hours; the Patrick she had known never would have been over fifteen minutes late.

She shook the thoughts away - hadn't she already gone through them enough? Patrick had changed, and he had changed for the worse. She still loved him - she supposed it would take a while to stop loving him - but how long could this keep going on? The initial reason she had been attracted to Patrick was because he understood her; he was similar to her, and he completely understood her feelings when she complained about people who broke the rules or showed up late. He got it. Now, she wasn't sure if he understood her anymore.

Lily hadn't been any help. Dominique had ended up sending the letter a month ago that asked if she was boring; Lily's response had been '_You're family, Dom, so I love you.' _Which, she supposed, was kind of a 'yes', but not really...it was all out of Dominique's comfort zone. She hated having to second-guess herself, to wonder if she was too dull for Patrick. She had liked the way that they were before, back at Hogwarts, or even before Patrick had started making Auror friends. They had loved each other, but it was simple. There weren't so many messy emotions - none of this worry or confusion or jealousy.

At eight, Dominique took her bag, left some money on the table for the ice water she had ordered, and made her way towards the exit, weaving through the semi-crowded restaurant. Just as she stepped outside into the brisk October air, she saw Patrick coming toward her. "What're you doing, Dom?" he asked.

"It's eight o'clock," she said. "We agreed on seven-thirty. After a half hour passed, I assumed you weren't going to come."

He had the decency to look offended. "I wouldn't bail on you, you know. The Auror Office kept me late - things are getting crazy there. This whole Circle business -" Patrick cut himself off, as though finally realizing that they were standing on the sidewalk of a Muggle street. He looked around, as if to ensure that nobody was looking at the two of them strangely, and then continued, "You know how busy things are."

"'Things'," Dominique said, affronted. "Can you possibly be any more vague?"

"I can't exactly talk here, you know." Patrick pointedly glanced around the street again.

"I'm aware of that - I'm not an idiot. It's simply that every time you talk about how busy you are - which is always your excuse for not being able to go out, that you're busy - you just say 'things'. 'Things are bad.' 'Things are busy'. 'Things are crazy'." She shook her head. "It's hard to believe that you're always being completely truthful, when you refuse to tell me anything about what's going on."

"I can't," Patrick said. "You know I can't - the Auro-" He cut himself off again, an angry look on his face. "Can we please go somewhere else? I can't say half the things I want to say, standing right here."

Without a word, Dominique grabbed his arm and pulled him into the space between the restaurant and the next building. When she was sure that nobody was around, she Apparated, pulling him along with her, and the two of them appeared in the small space between Dominique's flat building and the next one. She silently let them both inside, and once the door was securely shut and locked, and they were on the couch, she spoke. "I know that you can't tell me secret information that could potentially fall into the Circle's hands," she said, "but I have to hear all of my news from the _Prophet, _of all places, when you're an Auror, and you know fully what's going on. You don't tell me a thing, and that's why I'm not sure if I believe you all the time."

"Wait...are you - are you seriously saying you think I'm not working late? You think I'm cheating on you or something?"

She shrugged. "I'm not accusing you of anything in particular. I'm merely saying that I'm not sure if you're working late. I'm not positive, one way or another, but the thought's crossed my mind more than once."

His face went through an interesting range of facial expressions, none of them particularly happy. "You don't trust me? We've been dating for years, and you don't trust me?"

"I did trust you," Dominique answered, flicking her wand at her bag, so that it zoomed off into her bedroom. She could hear a thump as it hit something - probably the bed. "I trusted you at Hogwarts, and even after that. And then..." She took a deep breath. "You changed. You started acting like somebody other than yourself. You used to be very similar to me, and now you aren't, and I'm not sure what I think of this new personality."

"I don't have a new personality," Patrick said, but he didn't seem fully convinced of his own words. She raised her eyebrows at him, and he sighed. "All right, so I'm not the same person I was at Hogwarts. Big deal. Nobody is. People change."

"I haven't."

"Yeah, well, you're the exception, aren't you? Maybe because you were eleven going on thirty when I met you, and you're still going on thirty." He massaged his forehead. "Look, you're logical. And I get it. But there's more to life than just working and following all the rules and being an adult, you know. The Aurors helped to show me that. Maybe you should find somebody to show you that." He stared at the floor as he spoke his next words. "Somebody other than me."

"Are you saying that you're breaking up with me?" Even Dominique could recognize a breakup line when she saw one.

"Er," was his brilliant response, and for a few moments, he was silent. "Yeah," he finally said. "I mean, I'm not saying that we're over forever and that I hate your guts, because I don't. I still want to be friends, and I'm not saying we can never get back together. I just...think of it as more of a break than a breakup. I just need some time, and I think you do, too. Just...don't think you can never have fun, Dom."

"I have fun!" Dominique protested.

Patrick stood up, and she followed his lead. "Everything that you do that's 'fun', Dominique, is strictly allowed. You never break the rules or toe the line - hell, you never even come close. You don't swear, you don't drink, you don't party...you just behave yourself, all the time. And yes, I know you go to the beach or the theme park or something like that, but not everything you do has to be wholesome family fun. I'm not saying you should go insane, but just...try to let loose a little. Okay?"

"I'll see you around, Patrick," she managed to say, and he recognized the dismissal and left. She sat back down on the couch, hard, feeling more confused than ever before. That wasn't supposed to happen. Her life plan had included Patrick - she had expected him to propose within the next few years, and then they would get married and have children. It wasn't even necessarily her plan for romantic, daydreaming-about-the-future reasons; it had been her plan because it made sense.

She sighed. In a way - and, as much as she hated to admit it - Patrick was right. She never did anything that would be considered toeing the line, even when it wouldn't harm anybody. She simply didn't see the point. To her, breaking the rules - or even, just coming close to breaking the rules - was like poking an animal with a stick, and then getting angry when it turned against the person poking it. Breaking the rules resulted in consequences, she knew, and she didn't understand why somebody would find it fun.

Dominique groaned. Why did this have to happen? Things were so much easier when they had been playing out the way they were supposed to in her life plan - when she and Patrick had been a perfectly normal, happy couple. She missed those days; she missed the old Patrick, the one who had been just like her. She didn't even know anybody who was just like her now; she supposed Molly was the closest, but even Molly had her moments of rebelliousness that Dominique didn't. Nobody had understood Dominique like Patrick - not even her own family. Now, he was gone, and she hadn't ever felt more alone.

She made her way to her bedroom and, feeling rather ridiculous, composed a letter to her sister.

_Victoire,_

_You're going to think that there is something wrong with me - even I think there might be something wrong, because I would never ask this. You're a mind-Healer, though, and so I know you're not going to think that I'm ridiculous for anything I might happen to say; at least, you won't be able to outright show if you think I am ridiculous, anyway. _

_I want to talk. Patrick and I are no longer together. I'm not depressed, or anything like that - and don't you dare send me to go get ice cream - but I think I just want to talk to somebody, and you seem to be my best option. It might be easier if you come here, since I know that you must be busy at Hogwarts. _

_-Dominique _

She put the letter on her bedside table, still trying to decide whether she would send it or not. The thought of asking for help felt ridiculous, but then, what else could she do? She didn't have very many friends; her personality had alienated most of the other students in her year, apart from Patrick. There were only a few members of her family that she even could talk to, since the rest were at Hogwarts, and it would feel strange talking about this with any of the adults. Freddie was a definite no, based on his personality alone, and Teddy would be awkward about the whole thing. Victoire was a mind-Healer; she was used to hearing about people's problems.

Dominique sighed, and she couldn't help but think that life would be so much easier if there were no emotions, just logic.


	16. James - October

_October 17, 2022_

James exchanged a look with Roxanne as every seventh year filed into the Great Hall. He couldn't remember any time when anything like this had happened. The whole seventh year class had been summoned to the Great Hall. None of the other students were there, although every teacher was in attendance, standing on the raised platform that held the staff table. They were all silent, watching the students file in and sit down, all of them chattering amongst themselves.

"This is freaking weird," Alexandra muttered as she slid into a seat between James and Roxanne; Casey was on the other side of Roxanne. "Seriously," Alexandra continued, addressing the comment entirely to Roxanne, "what the hell?"

"Settle down, everybody." It was Professor Clearwater that was speaking. It took a few seconds, but gradually, the murmurs stopped until the whole Great Hall was completely quiet. "Now, I would like to bring something to your attention. I'm sure several of you already know this, but this May is the twenty-fifth anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. As you are all aware, this means that the annual memorial service will be longer; there will be more speakers, and Harry Potter will be joining us."

This was no big surprise to James. All of the notable anniversaries - five, ten, fifteen, and so on - were more of an event than usual. James's father always spoke at those 'special' ones, and there were more people getting up in front of everybody and talking about their experiences with the war. James understood how important the service was to many people, but he had been going to these services as far back as he could remember, and they were all the same to him. People stood up and talked about how much Voldemort and the Wizarding Wars sucked. There was a lot of crying from the adult audience members, almost all of whom were involved with at least one, if not both, of the wars against Voldemort, and all the students got the day off from school.

"What's going on?" Alexandra muttered. James agreed. Sure, the twenty-fifth anniversary wasn't an everyday occurrence, but he still didn't understand why all of the seventh years had been brought in here. Even Molly looked confused, and she was Head Girl.

"I'm sure you are all asking why you're here," she said. "There is a reason for it. This year, we are going to do something different for the service. In addition to the survivors talking about the war, we are going to have two Hogwarts students speak about how the war has affected this generation, as well."

Molly's hand shot up into the air. "Who are those students going to be?" she asked as soon as the Headmistress nodded at her. James could practically see her drooling at the mouth. She would love to be a part of something like this, he knew. This was exactly in her comfort zone. She would be quite good at it, as well; she was intelligent enough - and Ravenclaw enough - to be able to research and write something like this, and her Head Girl-ship had made her comfortable at talking in front of people.

"After much discussion, we have come to an agreement," Professor Clearwater said. "For a little while, we had considered having the Head Boy and Head Girl be the student speakers, but we feel that would be almost too cliched, if you will. We fear that the Head Girl and Head Boy, being in the positions that they are, might not accurately present the views of a normal student at Hogwarts. Because of this, we have selected one prefect and one regular student, who will work together to write the speech, which they will then present together."

"If it's you," James whispered to Casey, "I am going to die laughing."

"The students are Alyssa Macmillan and James Potter," Professor Clearwater said. "If you two would please accompany me to my office."

"This is going to be good," Alexandra said delightfully, looking between James and Alyssa. James could see Alyssa's facial expression - which wasn't happy - and knew that his own mirrored it. He was pleased to be working with Alyssa - that couldn't ever change - but the idea of writing a speech bored him. He wanted to spend his days preparing for practical jokes. Not to mention, if he was to spend time with Alyssa, he sure as hell didn't want to use that time to work on a _speech_, of all things. He could think of much more enjoyable ways to spend the time.

"Oh, shut up," James mumbled, climbing off of the bench. Professor Clearwater began walking towards the doors, and James followed, Alyssa trailing behind him. He walked slowly, in the hopes of her catching up to him, but she slowed her pace each time he did, to the point that Professor Clearwater looked back at them.

"Come along, you two," she said, a noticeable hint of impatience in her voice. She stood there at the doors and waited for both James and Alyssa to reach her; when they did, she set off again only a couple of steps ahead of them. James tried to hear the password to her office, for future reference, but the Headmistress leaned close to the gargoyle and whispered it, preventing James from hearing.

When they were finally seated - James and Alyssa across from Professor Clearwater - Alyssa shot a look at James. "I don't mean to offend you, Professor," she said, "but I don't know if you and the others made the right choice. Potter can't write a speech."

Professor Clearwater raised her eyebrows. "Miss Macmillan," she said, her voice firm but not cold, "Mr. Potter is not failing any of his classes, and his essays, although not exemplary, are not below-average. He has the ability to write, as do you. The decision has already been made; nothing can change that."

"Why him?" Alyssa asked.

"The son of Harry Potter?" The Headmistress adjusted a few pieces of parchment on the desk. "I think it is quite clear, in my opinion. We selected him first, in fact. And as for you, well, I felt that Mr. Potter needed a prefect to work with, or else things might not end up the way that we want them to. You, I feel, were the best candidate. I will not go back on the decision we have made."

Alyssa sighed audibly. "Don't worry," James said, winking. "I'll behave."

"That'll be enough, Mr. Potter," the Headmistress said. "Now, I brought you up here to discuss the details. You are to collaborate on the speech, and I don't want either one of you to do all of the work. In the same way, both of you are to present it in front of everybody; I expect each of you to read roughly half of what you have written. The speech should be at least five minutes long, but less than an hour. It is to be on the topic of how the wars against...Voldemort...have affected your generation as well. This can be interpreted however you wish, as long as it is reasonably appropriate and not offensive."

Alyssa muttered something; James thought it was 'James is never appropriate and non-offensive', but he couldn't be sure. Professor Clearwater cleared her throat, and then continued speaking, as though Alyssa had never interrupted.

"You are both to wear dress robes when you speak, and I do ask that you make an effort not to clash terribly. We do not have the exact schedule for what time you will be speaking, although your names will surely be announced at the time, so you will not have to remember exactly when to find your way to the front. As for your preparation and writing, you will be allowed to ask any professor at this school for help, although none of us will actually write it for you. I do believe that is it; ask me, or any of the other professors, if you have further questions."

James started to stand up, but a sudden question caused him to sit back down. "Why did you announce this in front of everyone?" he asked. "I mean, if the decision was already made. Why couldn't you just bring the two of us to your office?"

His reasoning behind this wasn't because he was embarrassed at being chosen; it was more along the lines of '_If people see me and Alyssa Macmillan working together, they might assume we're dating'._ The fact that the whole seventh year knew that they had no choice made things slightly annoying. He could have used the rumor mill to his advantage, after all; he still had the bet going with Casey that he and Alyssa would end up together by the end of the school year, and he really wanted to win.

"All the seventh years does not constitute 'everyone', Mr. Potter," Professor Clearwater began. "Anyway, I announced it in front of everybody because I wanted them to realize how important this is. I did not want them to be bothering you and Alyssa if you happened to be working together; I felt it would make things simpler if they all knew what you were doing."

"Thank you, Professor," Alyssa said sincerely. "Now people won't think I'm hanging out with James by my own choice."

Professor Clearwater was silent for a moment; James figured that she was trying to figure out whether Alyssa was being sarcastic or sincere. "You two may go," she said finally. "And - I am completely serious when I say this - do not put this off until the last minute. I will have people check up on you throughout the year to ensure that you are getting this done before the last week of April, or Merlin forbid, May first."

"What about the morning of May second?" James asked, and she merely pointed toward the exit.

The walk down the stairs was silent, but once they had returned to the corridors of Hogwarts, Alyssa turned to James, a furious look on her face. "Listen to me, Potter," she snapped, "I don't want to work with you very much; I don't want to see you drooling over my arse and boobs. Of course, there's absolutely no way I'm going to write a whole freaking speech on my own, either. You do your part, I'll do mine - and this will remain strictly professional. I'll make an effort to stop insulting you, but you have to stop pining over me. Consider this a truce."

She looked at him expectantly, and it was James's turn to sigh. Not pining over Alyssa would be extremely difficult, but he supposed that the stoppage of her insults might be worth it. Besides, if they were working together and not arguing...who knew? Something could come of that. "Fine," he said finally, nodding. "It's a truce."

"Good," she said. "Meet me in the library tomorrow at four. We'll work on the overview and outline."

"What?" James spluttered. "You do know that this thing is due in May, right? And it's the middle of October right now? Who are you, my cousin Molly?"

The corner of Alyssa's mouth quirked up in a smile, but she tamped it down quickly. "Professor Clearwater said not to procrastinate," Alyssa said. "Besides, this speech has to be long; it makes sense to work on it months in advance."

"It never makes sense to work on something months in advance," James muttered, and this time Alyssa let out a short laugh, looking almost surprised at herself.

"_Bye_, Potter," she said, and hurried away; James couldn't help but smile to himself. Maybe this project wouldn't be so terrible after all.


	17. Roxanne - October

_October 22, 2022 _

"Is James still in the common room?" Roxanne asked as Alexandra entered the dormitory. She felt a slight thrill rush through her, unbidden, at the knowledge that they were alone. Even though it was a little past midnight, the other Gryffindor girls had not returned. Roxanne was well aware that one of them had left to meet her boyfriend in some private location, and the other two were down in the common room, doing schoolwork.

Alexandra snorted, pulling her Gryffindor tie over her head and throwing it in the general direction of her bedpost; it sailed neatly onto one of them. She always had been coordinated and athletic. "If you can believe it, yes," Alexandra answered, chuckling. "Studying up on the wars because Alyssa Macmillan told him to."

Roxanne nodded; she knew the story. Alyssa had told James to read as much about the First and Second Wizarding Wars as possible, even though their speech at the memorial wasn't about the past. Apparently it was important to know the background, so that they could reference events if necessary and not have to worry about screwing things up. From a logical standpoint, Roxanne understood it, but she found it much funnier to pay attention to how utterly whipped James was. "Merlin," she said. "He's been at it for a few days now, at every opportunity."

"I wonder if he sleeps," Alexandra said idly, swinging herself onto her bed and perching cross-legged on it. Roxanne carefully sat down on the end, leaning against the bedpost so that there was space between them. Any brush of skin, no matter how accidental, would make her heart beat fast, would make her more and more tempted to lean over and explore Alexandra's mouth with her own. Most times, she could control herself - most times, she even liked unnecessary contact - but here, on a bed, it was different.

"None of us sleep," Roxanne joked. She had a point. Most students tended to get up between six and seven in order to make themselves presentable - and awake - before breakfast, and most of them went to bed around midnight. Everyone stayed up late talking or finishing last-minute essays, and with the little-to-no supervision in the common rooms and dormitories, nobody could force them to go to bed early.

The thoughts about sleep caused Roxanne to yawn, and Alexandra let out a small laugh. "Maybe you need to," she said, the last word swallowed up by a yawn of her own.

"Maybe you do, too," Roxanne retorted, chuckling.

"Nah," Alexandra said. "I'd rather hang out with you. I can't remember the last time it was just you and me."

It didn't help when she said things like that. That statement could be taken in so many ways, and Roxanne's brain instantly jumped to the best conclusions - that Alexandra felt the same way - before she pushed those thoughts away. It wasn't that she saw anything wrong with the fact that she fancied Alexandra - for Merlin's sake, they were in the twenty-first century, and girls could fancy girls. It was more that she didn't want to get her hopes up.

Roxanne was a Gryffindor, and she was generally very good about being honest and upfront with people, but this was an exception. She couldn't tell Alexandra her secret, and watch as her best friend - the person she loved - rejected her. It was easier to keep quiet; she'd move on eventually and find someone else, and her feelings toward Alexandra would go back to being completely platonic, like they used to be.

"Neither can I," Roxanne said as casually as she could. "This is nice."

"Isn't it?" Alexandra said, although there was a note in her voice that confused Roxanne. It sounded almost like nervousness, and as Roxanne watched, Alexandra twisted her hands together, not meeting Roxanne's eyes. Her demeanor had changed within a few seconds, and she took a few deep breaths, letting them out slowly; Roxanne watched with curiosity.

"Is everything okay?"

"I want to tell you something," Alexandra said after a few moments, climbing off the bed. She paced back and forth across the room.

"You can tell me anything." Roxanne's heart pounded quickly. Was Alexandra about to admit that she fancied Roxanne? It would be the most amazing night of Roxanne's life, if it was true; she could see it clearly in her mind, could see her standing up and rushing over to Alexandra, tackling them both onto Roxanne's bed, where they laid there and kissed and murmured sweet nothings -

Alexandra's back was to Roxanne as she spoke; Roxanne had a lovely view of the chocolate-brown hair cascading down Alexandra's back, stopping just above her rear. It was, in Roxanne's mind, a beautiful sight. "I'm bisexual," Alexandra admitted finally, turning around, peeking at Roxanne. She didn't seem as confident as usual. "Are you - does it bother you? Because we've never actually talked about anything like that."

Roxanne snorted. "It would be a bit hypocritical if it bothered me, Alex." She almost clapped a hand over her mouth after speaking - had she actually dared to say that? She had sworn to herself that she wouldn't reveal her sexuality to anybody until after Hogwarts, if only because the Hogwarts rumor mill operated faster than anything, but it seemed like the right time. Alexandra had revealed hers to Roxanne; why shouldn't she do the same? "I fancy girls. Just girls."

"I kind of suspected for a while." Alexandra sat down on the bed again, this time much closer to Roxanne. Roxanne couldn't move away, not without being completely obvious; she tried to stay as still as possible. "You didn't really appear to care about blokes. I didn't want to ask, though - didn't want to seem rude."

"You're not rude," Roxanne said, feeling especially daring. "You're just honest - and frankly, if you're rude to somebody, they deserve it."

Alexandra chuckled, presumably remembering past times she had insulted someone. "I guess you're right, Roxie. You always know what to say." She leaned over, and Roxanne caught her scent - something tangy and citrusy - before the other girl enveloped her in a quick, warm embrace. Roxanne hugged back, reveling in how good it felt. Alexandra yawned again when they released each other, and then she stood up. "I'm probably going to go to bed. Early morning tomorrow." She made a face.

"You should be used to it by now," Roxanne teased, but she, too, changed into pajamas and fell asleep, her dreams full of Alexandra.

* * *

"I heard James is going to ask Alyssa to the next Honeydukes trip," Alexandra said eagerly to Roxanne later on that day, after classes. It was a pleasant, if brisk, day outside, and so the two girls had taken the opportunity to stroll around the Black Lake, merely talking.

"I'm sure that'll go over well," said Roxanne, rolling her eyes. "Honestly, that boy needs to learn to give it a rest, and realize that he is not his grandfather, and Alyssa is not Lily the first."

"You think they're like the original James and Lily?" Alexandra asked, tilting her head slightly. "I don't totally know their story. I mean, I know that they died when Voldemort came after them, but..."

Roxanne nodded. Alexandra, being Muggle-born, was not as well-educated on the events of the past forty years as Wizarding children were. "James Potter was in love with Lily Evans," she said, "but Lily couldn't stand James. During their seventh year, he grew up a bit, and somehow they ended up together. I'm not too clear on the details. It just kind of seems similar to James and Alyssa, though."

"Maybe history is doomed to repeat itself," Alexandra said. "Besides, there are only so many types of love stories. Enemies who fall in love, strangers who fall in love, and -" there was a brief pause -"best friends who fall in love."

"I suppose you're right," Roxanne said, still mulling over Alexandra's pause before the last phrase. She almost tripped on a root, and Alexandra's hand shot out grab her wrist and steady her, bringing her back to a normal standing position. Alexandra's hand lingered there a little longer than it normally would have, and then she released it, not making eye contact with Roxanne.

Roxanne's heart pounded quickly again - that was a definite _something _- and she stared at Alexandra. "Er, about what you said last night," Roxanne said slowly, still not believing her own ears, not believing that she was daring to do this, "is there anything else you wanted to tell me?"

Alexandra stared at her, eye to eye, and she rubbed the back of her neck, looking away as she said, "No, Roxie." Her voice was quiet, and the two girls were silent as they headed back to the castle. Roxanne kept stealing sideways glances at Alexandra, who looked pensive and nervous the whole time, and she couldn't help but wonder if there was something going on with Alexandra.

Something...like what was going through Roxanne's mind at the moment. The possibility of Alexandra fancying her had grown more in the space of a day; time spent alone together was more telling than time spent in a group, and this had given Roxanne even more possibilities, more wild dreams that would flit through her mind in both the day and night. She smiled to herself as they reentered Hogwarts; hope had come back to her.


	18. Molly - October

_October 25, 2022 _

As the other students left the Arithmancy classroom, Molly walked up towards the desk at the front, a few pieces of parchment clutched in her hand. "Professor Gianno?"

The teacher - early twenties and dark-haired, with over a head of height on Molly - looked up. "Miss Weasley? Is there something I can help you with?"

She spread the pieces of parchment over the table in front of him. "The homework you handed back today - are you sure that these are wrong?" She gestured to the five answers that he had marked incorrect. It was true that Molly had difficulty with that particular set of questions, but it still felt intensely odd for her to have five incorrect answers on the same homework. It wasn't like her at all; Arithmancy wasn't easy, but still.

"I check and double-check everything," Professor Gianno replied. It felt strange to be thinking of him as 'Professor Gianno', Molly thought; he was Victoire's age. "I noticed you had difficulty with this type of question. Study your books more, and if you still don't understand, perhaps remedial Arithmancy is in order. I'm always happy to assist."

"Thank you," Molly said, gathering her parchment and walking away. Her cheeks burned. Remedial Arithmancy? The possibility was absurd in her mind. In all her years of Hogwarts, she couldn't remember a Ravenclaw who had needed remedial classes, and it was embarrassing after four years of Arithmancy to have difficulty with it now.

She supposed part of it could have been distraction and sleeplessness. She met up with Casey almost every other night, causing her to get six hours of sleep at the most on those nights, and the Casey-free nights were spent covering her tracks and doing as much schoolwork as possible. To top it all off, Lily had come to her not even two weeks previously and asked her about Casey, admitting that she had seen the two of them together in an empty classroom after hours, and had made her own deductions from there.

Lily hadn't told anybody or even threatened to, which surprised Molly; she had figured blackmail was in order. It still worried her, though, that Lily knew, and it raised the point that they would get found out eventually. Even if she could trust Lily to keep this secret, other people were bound to find out, and Molly didn't want that to happen. She didn't want to be known as 'Casey Chance's girlfriend'. She didn't want to be associated with James, Roxanne, Casey, and Alexandra any more than she was by being related to James and Roxanne. That was one thing - and it was fine - but if word spread that she was voluntarily hanging around them - or more than 'hanging around' - her entire reputation and image would be ruined.

She had been musing on this ever since Lily had admitted her knowledge of the relationship. So far, it seemed as though Lily was the only one who knew, and that was good. She trusted Lily to an extent. Lily would never spread the rumor around for the fun of it; she wasn't that kind of girl. A problem would arise, though, if Molly had something that Lily wanted, and Molly figured it would only be a matter of time before Lily decided to ask for privileges to stay out past curfew, or something equally ridiculous. She couldn't let that happen, and nor could she let anybody else find out.

For the past two weeks or so, she had been at a loss on what to do - or rather, she had chosen to ignore what to do, because if she was honest, there was something enjoyable about being with Casey. The physical chemistry was astounding to Molly, and there was something a little freeing - if nerve-wracking - about being out after curfew and breaking the rules. It couldn't go on, though. It just couldn't.

Molly tucked her Arithmancy homework into her book bag and set off in search of Casey. It took a while to find him, and even then, he was with James; it took a half hour before James left him alone, at which point Molly tugged him aside when nobody was looking.

"Thought you liked the secrecy," Casey said. He started to lower his face to Molly's, but she pushed him away.

"I didn't bring you here for that," she snapped. He recoiled, and she shook her head. "Sorry. I...I can't do this anymore."

His eyes looked as though they were going to pop out of his face. "What are you going on about? Nobody knows about us, and it's not like we argue or anything. C'mon, Mols, don't be stupid."

"I'm not being _stupid_," Molly said, aggravated. Calling a Ravenclaw 'stupid' was extra insulting, since they prided themselves on their intelligence, wisdom, and knowledge. "First off, my cousin Lily knows."

"_Lily_?" Casey whistled. "And how come we aren't receiving a demand for ten thousand Galleons or something?"

"Because Lily's just as rich as I am," Molly said. "And because I think, for some reason, that she doesn't completely care about what's going on with you and I. The point is, however, that she knows. And if she found out, other people are bound to do so as well. Yes, Lily's a bit ahead of the crowd, but eventually, if we keep this up, somebody's going to catch us. I don't want that to happen."

Casey raised his eyebrows. "Because that's not insulting at all. 'Oh, yeah, I don't want anybody to know that I know you'."

"I didn't say that," Molly protested, although she couldn't completely deny the truth of his statement. He had a point; that was, effectively, what she was saying, albeit in a less blunt way.

"Whatever," Casey said. "Go back to being the prim, perfect little Head Girl. Have fun with that." He shook his head and walked away; Molly stared after him, but she forced herself to walk away as well, albeit in the opposite direction. It was for the better. Casey would never end up being anything serious anyway; she wasn't sure why she had even bothered with him for this long. She should have followed Dominique's plan of not dating while in Hogwarts. Of course, Dominique had broken her own rule, and started going out with Patrick Tomlinson in seventh year, but since Patrick was basically Dominique in a boy's body, it hadn't been too much of a stir. Molly supposed Dominique had it right. Hogwarts relationships were dumb anyway.

She headed back to the Ravenclaw common room, nodding at Irene, who was writing a letter by the fire. Today's _Daily Prophet _was laying on an empty chair, and Molly picked it up, sitting down. It was very much like the Ravenclaws to leave things like that laying around, in case anybody else might want to read it. It was the story on the very first page that caught her eye, and she sat straight up, a gasp escaping.

'_Attack on the Prophet's Headquarters'. _

Normally, this wouldn't freak her out so much. Over the past several months, she had grown more accustomed to there being random attacks and disappearances and murders, and while these things were terrible, they weren't as startling anymore. This, however, was scary; Molly's mother, Audrey Weasley, worked at the _Prophet's _headquarters as the chief editor, and the fact that Audrey Weasley was both Muggle-born and connected to the most famous Light family in the Wizarding world didn't help matters either.

"Everything okay?" Irene asked, looking up from her letter.

Molly didn't answer; her eyes scanned the newspaper, reading as quickly as possible, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw the words 'no deaths'. According to the article, there were a few injuries, a few people being treated at St. Mungo's, but nobody had been seriously harmed; the Circle members had broken in and started attacking the people in the outer offices, but had vastly underestimated the amount of people that had been there. The Circle members had been forced to retreat or risk losing, and they had retreated so that still, no Circle members had been taken into Ministry of Magic custody - and, of course, they had all been wearing masks so that their faces weren't revealed.

She couldn't help but feel a sense of irritation, however, despite the fact that the Circle had been prevented from accomplishing anything. They were all so damn clever. Nobody had been revealed as a Circle member. They didn't have identifying marks like the Death Eaters, and all of their attacks had been planned well enough so that they never got caught. It was as though the Circle was composed entirely of Ravenclaws, intelligent and clever enough to plan things out exceedingly well.

Finding a piece of spare parchment, she composed a quick letter to her mother - '_I saw that the Daily Prophet headquarters was attacked by Circle members. Are you all right? Love, Molly' - _and tucked it into her pocket to mail next time she was up near the Owlery. She wondered what the Circle had been after; they had seemed to be targeting Unspeakables for a while, in an obvious attempt to learn more about the Department of Mysteries. She couldn't see any link between the two things; the _Daily Prophet _and the Department of Mysteries were about as far from each other as possible when it came to what they did.

The only thing she could possibly think of - and it was tenuous, at best - was information. The people at the _Prophet _would surely have information that the general public didn't know; their jobs as reporters enabled them to find out things that most people didn't know, and sometimes this information wouldn't be revealed to everyone else until later. It didn't make sense to Molly, however; she couldn't understand why they would switch their focus now.

She sighed, and settled back into her chair, supposing there were some things that a seventh year Ravenclaw just couldn't figure out on her own.


	19. Albus - October

_October 28, 2022 _

"You've got to be kidding me," James said, folding his arms across his chest. Al sighed, letting himself sink back against the wall of the building as his brother paced back and forth in front of him. He had known that this day would come sooner or later. It was impossible to hide his relationship with Leda forever; he was surprised they had lasted this long. "Leda Lestrange? Are you kidding me?"

Al felt like banging his head on the wall. He was out here in the alley talking to James, of all people, while his two best friends and his girlfriend were inside the Three Broomsticks, having a good time. It wasn't that he disliked his brother, but he disliked when James got in this sort of mood. "Stop it," Al said tiredly. "You can't hate every single Slytherin out there, James."

"I don't," James said, although he didn't sound as convincing as he should. Al knew that James still held a lot of prejudice for Slytherins, even though Lily was one of them. He had made an effort to tone it down - for her - but that didn't mean he was doing a fantastic job with it. "But seriously, Al, a Lestrange? Come on - they were _Death Eaters. _As in, Voldemort's lackeys. And you're the son of -"_  
_

"All of that was twenty-five years ago!" Al protested. "Are you forgetting that Leda wasn't even born? She has absolutely nothing to do with the war. No more than we do."

"The war affects our generation too," James said.

"Don't bring up your stupid speech," Al said. "Just because it affects our generation doesn't mean our generation played any part in it. Honestly." He shook his head. "Leda isn't a bad person. Just because she's not some perfect ultra-Light Gryffindor doesn't mean she's evil."

James looked like he was going to say something further, but at that moment Casey, Alexandra, and Roxanne passed by on the street. Al watched as they stopped at the alley's opening, and Casey gestured for James to come join them. "This isn't done," James said as he started to walk away. Al headed back toward the restaurant as well.

"Yes, it is," he called after his brother, but James appeared not to hear him.

He slipped back inside the Three Broomsticks. As usual for a Hogsmeade weekend, it was crowded, but not as bad as it was in the winter months; at this point in time, it wasn't so cold that everybody needed to stay inside for the entire Hogsmeade trip, and there were many students wandering around and enjoying the brisk, refreshing weather. The four of them had managed to get a table in the corner that allowed for them to speak normally and not have to shout to make themselves heard.

"What did James want?" Rose asked. James had come inside the Three Broomsticks and asked to speak to Al; Al assumed James had seen him and Leda holding hands, and his assumption had been correct.

"He was going on about Leda," Al said bluntly.

"I really don't like Gryffindors." Leda took a long swig of Butterbeer as Al sat back down next to her. His own drink had started to cool off, but it was still good.

"That doesn't surprise me," Al said, smirking at Leda. She rolled her eyes at him. "I'm guessing this means I probably shouldn't invite you over for Christmas holidays," he continued. "Or else you might wake up to a nice surprise from James." He wouldn't put it past James to play some sort of mean practical joke on Leda if she happened to sleep over. He also wouldn't put it past James to tell their mum and dad that Leda and Al were in a relationship; Al didn't particularly want to explain that to his parents at the moment.

Of course, James was probably off sending a letter to them at this very moment. He wasn't usually a tattletale - years of being the next Marauder or Weasley twin had taught him not to be - but in this instance, Al wouldn't be surprised. With James's anti-Slytherin attitude...he had the feeling that his relationship with Leda was soon to become pretty public.

He snapped back to attention just in time to hear Leda say, "Maybe you three could come over my place, then. It's sure as hell big enough for all of you."

"Oh, I know," Scorpius said. Al knew that Scorpius had been over Leda's house; they were related, after all, and relatives meant everything in the pureblood world - when the purebloods wanted them to, of course. Their familial relationship also meant that Leda's parents didn't really have an excuse to say no. The same couldn't be said for Rose and Al; although they were probably related very distantly to Leda, they were far enough apart on the family tree where it didn't really matter anymore. Al wouldn't be too surprised if Leda's parents said no to having a Weasley and a Potter over.

"Would your parents say yes?" Al said. He could hear the doubt in his own voice.

Leda shrugged. "I've never asked before."

"Because you figured they'd say no?"

"Well, yes," she said. "But I'm going to try. I don't particularly feel like laying in my room for all of Christmas holidays, home alone while they go to some dull, fancy party. Or even worse, I don't want to spend my holidays getting dragged to some fancy party." She made a face. "If I've got company, I don't have to go."

Rose chuckled. "So are you inviting us over because you want to have your friends over, or because you want someone there so that you don't have to have boring holidays?"

"Both," Leda said, finishing her Butterbeer.

* * *

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_I figured James would have already told you, so I'm going to go ahead and tell you - _

Al crumpled up the parchment and threw it into the fire, where it joined his previous four attempts. He had been sitting in front of the fire for nearly an hour, trying to compose a letter to his parents. As much as he didn't like the idea of his parents knowing about him and Leda, he wanted them to hear it from him instead of James. Roxanne had swore up and down that James hadn't sent off a letter - Al had asked her, figuring that she would be the one who would know - and he had decided to work on his own letter instantly, before James got the chance to blackmail Al with the information or tell on him.

He sighed. He knew that his parents weren't ridiculous. He knew they wouldn't throw him out or anything like that; he knew that they would be mature adults about the situation. He wouldn't be too surprised, however, if he got a talk - or a letter - about how perhaps Leda wasn't the right choice for him, and how there were surely some nice Hufflepuff girls he knew, or something ridiculous like that. He wasn't looking forward to their response, whatever it might be, but it was better that they hear it from him. If they heard it from James instead, Al would also have to deal with the 'You Can Tell Us Anything' and 'You Should Have Told Us' speeches as well.

He lifted the quill over the parchment; a blob of ink dropped down, forming a large drop. He waved his wand to clean it, and the parchment became unblemished again, completely empty of words. He hated this; writing wasn't even his strong suit, especially not writing like this.

_Dear Mum and Dad, _he began. That was the simple part - the easy part.

_I just wanted to tell you that I got a girlfriend. I figured James would write you and tell you. Either that, or he'd try to blackmail me with it by threatening to tell you two. So I figured I would tell you before he could do that. I've told you about Leda before. My friend Leda. Yeah, we're together now. Thought you ought to know._

_Love, Al _

It was a shitty letter. It sounded stupid; it sounded like something he would have written five years ago or so, but he didn't have a choice. Better to tell them himself than to wait for James to do it - and James was bound to do it. After his reaction in the alley, there was no way that he would just sit down and let Leda and Al be at peace; that wasn't how James worked. He would do something; James would always do something.

Al folded the letter and walked to the Owlery, giving it to one of the school owls and watching as the bird flew off into the night. There. Now James couldn't tell on him, and nor could James blackmail him by saying 'I'll tell Mum and Dad'. It was satisfying, to know that he was free from that; the bad part was waiting for what his parents would say.

He took a deep breath and headed back to the common room, trying not to worry himself. It would all turn out fine - he knew it would all turn out fine.


	20. Rose - November

_October 31, 2022 into November 1, 2022_

Rose had given up asking her friends about Lily's Halloween plan. All three of them refused to tell her what was going on, due to her prefect status, and if she was honest with herself, it was annoying. She understood that the fact that she was a prefect made her untrustworthy to many mischief-making students, but her curiosity was beginning to take over. The possibility of waiting until the following morning was unbearable. She had to find out what was going on - and she had to figure out soon.

It wasn't even that she planned to tell a teacher. The idea had, admittedly, crossed her mind at first, but she had decided against it. It was obvious, even from her extremely limited knowledge of the prank, that Lily had put a lot of thought into it, and was getting a lot of other people involved. Telling on Lily would completely ruin her relationship with Lily - and possibly some other family members, depending on who sided with Lily - and telling on other people would simply ruin her in the eyes of most of the students.

She tried not to care about social standing, but it wasn't easy; being a prefect didn't make someone very popular anyway, and ratting would just make her even worse.

Rose contented herself with the knowledge that Lily's prank - whatever it may be - wouldn't be harmful. Lily had never harmed anybody during a prank. Humiliated or inconvenienced, yes, but she had never actually hurt anybody. She hadn't reached that degree of ruthlessness yet, and for that Rose was grateful.

Even though she told herself that Lily's prank would be harmless, and that she would no doubt see the results of it in the morning anyway, she couldn't help but be on edge the whole day, curious to see what would come of it. Finally, sometime after curfew, that inquisitiveness got the better of her, and Rose slipped outside the common room. The castle was silent, and she crept around, finally reaching the Great Hall. She could hear the faint murmur of voices from inside, but the doors were thick enough to prevent her from making out the words.

She opened them just far enough for her to slip inside, but even that was noticed. Lily, who was standing on the Gryffindor table, instantly looked over. "Rose?" she gasped, jumping down from the table. "What the hell are you even doing here?" She strode over to her, looking Rose right in the eye. There were several students surrounding them; it seemed as though Lily had coerced half the school to come, although Rose knew that couldn't be the case.

Rose glanced at three large boxes, each stamped with the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes insignia. "Pretty sure I could ask you the same question."

"Should we Stun her?" said a voice somewhere from the crowd of students. Rose whirled around and glared in the general direction, but she couldn't pinpoint who exactly had asked the question.

"No, we're not going to Stun her," Lily said, sounding annoyed. Rose wasn't sure if Lily was annoyed at her, or at the student who had asked the question. Both seemed like viable options. "She's going to stay with me."

"What?" Lily's friend Autumn spoke up. "She's a prefect, Lily."

"Exactly," Lily said. "And she won't be able to get out of my sight. I dare her to try. She wouldn't be able to get a professor until we're all done, anyway - and so what if she says who was involved? The important thing is getting to actually do all of this stuff."

"I won't tell," Rose said. She doubted that anybody standing in the room would actually believe her - and, judging by their faces, they didn't - but she didn't particularly care.

"Good," Lily said. "Scorpius, can you read off the list?"

Scorpius weaved his way through the crowd, shooting a glance at Rose that was somewhere between shocked and pleased. He pulled a piece of parchment out of his pocket and began reading out names, two at a time, and letting each pair find one another in the crowd. As far as Rose could tell, it seemed that the students had been paired so that each real troublemaker - someone like James - was paired up with one of the people who had merely come along for the ride - people like Louis or Lucy.

She supposed that made sense, and it explained even further why Lily wanted Rose to stick with her. Wasn't it only fair - the top troublemaker, the one who had organized all of this, with the most well-behaved student in the room?

When everybody had found the person that they were pairing up with, Scorpius opened the boxes of WWW products and began passing those out as well. Rose recognized all manner of objects - some as simple as paint, while others had more WWW-specific products like Decoy Detonators. After everybody had gotten some type of pranking device, they began filing out, about a minute passing between each pair. Once everybody had left, Lily rushed over and bent down next to the Slytherin table. Rose hurried after her, peering underneath the table; there was a box taped to the underside of it. "What the -" she mumbled, but Lily cut her off.

"Hid it there at supper," she said. "This is strictly my box." She smiled that devilish smile of hers as she pulled the box off of the table. "Be back in a while, Scorpius," she said, grabbing Rose's wrist and pulling her out through the doors of the Great Hall.

"What's in the box?" Rose asked, confusion washing over her. "What's going on?"

"You know the story of when Uncle George and Fred left Hogwarts?" Lily said, answering Rose's question with a question. Rose nodded, and Lily continued, "Well, they raised hell before they left - and one of the things they did was make a Portable Swamp." Lily used her wand to open the cardboard box; Rose could see several Portable Swamp boxes inside it, all of different shapes and sizes. "They made one," she said. "I'm making several."

"Merlin," Rose said. "Where are you even going to put them all?"

"Oh, I have a few ideas," Lily replied, and set off at a light jog. Rose had to jog as well, to keep up, and by the time they reached the library she was panting, half-doubled over, and she was aware that her face was probably bright pink.

"I hate running," Rose mumbled.

Lily raised her eyebrows. "That wasn't running, you know."

"Shut up" was Rose's comeback; Lily rolled her eyes and took out one of the Portable Swamps. "Do you even know how to use that?" Rose asked. Although Weasley's Wizard Wheezes did sell Portable Swamps, they were one of the more expensive items, and as a result were not commonly seen at Hogwarts. In all of Rose's time there, she had never seen a student use one.

"Of course," Lily said. "I know how to use all Wheezes products." She surveyed the area. They were standing right outside the entrance to the library. The doors were shut; Madam Turpin had long since retired to bed. "You may want to back up a bit."

Rose obeyed, backing about ten feet away from Lily. She half expected Lily to say that she was too far away, that they were expected to stay right next to one another so that Rose didn't go running off, but the younger girl was quiet. When she thought about it for longer than a couple of seconds, it made sense; Lily could easily catch Rose, even if Rose had a ten-foot head start.

She couldn't help but watch as Lily opened the box to the Portable Swamp and poured the goo onto the floor. At first, it didn't look like much; the area it covered wasn't even a foot long, but then it started to stretch and expand, spreading before their very eyes. Lily collected her other Portable Swamps and backed away from it, lightly stepping over to Rose. "How big is it going to get?" Rose asked, almost transfixed by the sight.

Lily shrugged. "Enough to block both doors. Come on."

They repeated the process a few more times; Lily placed a Portable Swamp in front of the gargoyle to the Headmistress's office, in front of the Fat Lady, and in front of the Astronomy Tower before heading back to the Great Hall. A few other students were straggling out as Lily and Rose returned, but Scorpius were still there. "You two are the last ones back," he said. "Everyone else is done."

Lily grinned. "Oh, excellent. I absolutely can't wait for the morning."

"I have to admit," Scorpius said, "this was an excellent plan. Sending so many people out on the same night to cause chaos - it's brilliant."

"What did everyone else do?" Rose asked. "I mean, what about the people with the paint? They graffitied Hogwarts?"

"Basically," Lily said. "They pretty much had free rein. I just supplied them with their method of chaos - or rather, Scorpius did. He's the one who bought all of this stuff."

"Technically, my parents did," Scorpius said, "but since they have no idea, I'll accept credit."

"Lunatics," Rose said, "the both of you."

Scorpius pulled Rose in for a hug. "That wasn't even the least bit fun, Rosie?" he asked, a mischievous smile lighting up his face. "Come on. I know you liked it."

"No."

"Just a little?"

"No."

"Teensy bit?"

Rose smacked his shoulder, although it was light. "Jerk. Fine, so maybe it wasn't as horribly torturous as I thought it would be. That doesn't mean that I'm going to cause trouble, you know - both of you need to keep that in mind." She shot a look at Lily, although it ended up being more faux-stern than anything else. "And next time you're not going to get off so easy, with me agreeing to not tell and all. You know how much trouble I could be in if it got out that I helped with something like this?"

Lily shrugged. "Then we'll make sure that it doesn't get out."


	21. Lucy - November

_November 5, 2022 _

Lucy loved the library.

Her love of the library was entirely different than Molly or Rose's love for it. Whereas they loved the stacks and shelves of books, loved all the knowledge waiting to be discovered, Lucy simply loved the peace and quiet. Madam Turpin was very good about catching loud students, and only those who were in the Restricted Section - or right next to the Restricted Section - could get away with making noises any louder than a whisper. For Lucy - who had snagged the desk closest to Madam Turpin - it was a very good thing. Here, she could write without anybody pestering her.

As she dipped her quill into her inkwell - which was running low, she noted - she saw a couple sixth-years glance at her, and then whisper to each other. Her cheeks flushed. Louis's stupid plan had given her a degree of fame around Hogwarts that she really didn't want. She had been stopped by several students in the past month asking questions about her book. 'When will it be published?' and 'When do I get to know the ending?' were two of the most popular ones, to her annoyance.

She still harbored a seed of resentment towards Louis for spreading her book around. It hadn't been his place to do so. Even though she did want to publish someday, she wanted it to be on her own terms - and, for Merlin's sake, she wanted the book to be finished!

It was almost finished now, though. The past month had been excellent in terms of writing, and she knew that she only had a few more pages before the official end. There would be revising and editing to follow, of course, but finishing her first draft was a huge milestone that made her feel proud. She had never actually finished something before - at least, not something novel-length. The last time she had finished a story, it had been twelve pages, and she had been ten years old.

For a little while longer, she sat there and worked, actually feeling her heart rate speed up as she got closer and closer to what she was sure was the end. Just as she was again dipping her quill into the ink in preparation to write what she was sure was the last page, she was interrupted by somebody taking the seat across from her.

She swore under her breath as she glanced up. _Molly. _Lucy loved her sister, in a 'we're-family-and-therefore-I-don't-really-have-a- choice' sort of way, but Molly's personality often grated on her last nerves. Molly - just like their father - couldn't understand why Lucy devoted her time to writing a novel instead of working on school.

If Lucy had had her way, Molly and their father wouldn't have even known about the novel. She hadn't really had a choice, however; she worked on it enough during the summer that Percy inquired about it, and when he knew something, the whole family knew something. It was rather annoying, really. Neither of them was outright harsh about it, but it was obvious that neither of them approved.

"Hey, Molly," Lucy said wearily, putting her quill down. She knew with Molly around, the chance of her writing that last page was slim to none. "What is it?"

Molly frowned at Lucy's book, open on the table in front of them. "Is that your novel?" she asked, even though Lucy was sure Molly knew full-well what it was.

"Yeah," Lucy said. "Why?"

"Well..." Molly took a deep breath, her eyes darting downward again. "Dad wanted me to keep an eye on you. He wanted me to make sure that you were studying for your OWLs and focusing on schoolwork instead of writing."

"You're kidding," Lucy said flatly. Molly's facial expression remained the same. She wasn't kidding. Of course. Their dad was so obsessed with schoolwork that he would recruit his older daughter to spy on his younger daughter. He was so obsessed that he would ask one of his kids to keep the other in line. Lucy felt a surge of rage; she wanted to hit something. She understood that schoolwork was important, but the degree that he took it to was ridiculous. It wasn't as though Lucy planned to slack off on her OWLs, after all.

She would never study as much as Molly or Rose or Dominique or Percy himself had, but she would try her best - she didn't want to end up with one OWL any more than he wanted her to, after all. She did have her standards, and she knew that having a few OWLs would make her look more respectable when she went to publish her book.

Molly must have seen the anger on Lucy's face, because she held up her hands. "Don't look at me! Not my plan."

"Are you on his side with this?" Lucy tried to keep her voice even, but it just ended up sounding ice-cold. "Are you going to 'keep an eye on me', as he says? Spy on me and make sure that I don't do what I love?"

For a moment, Molly actually looked torn, and Lucy again felt an uncharacteristic feeling of anger wash over her. Then, Molly sighed. "Do what you want, Luce. I don't think focusing all your energy on your novel is the wisest decision, but to be honest, it really isn't any of my business. Just promise me that you won't do anything stupid, like slacking off too much."

"I promise," Lucy said. "Thanks for not being a bitch about this."

Molly nodded as she stood up. "No problem. Good luck, Lucy."

Lucy hurriedly turned her attention back to her novel, her quill flying across the page. It wasn't particularly late, but it was getting closer to dinnertime, and she didn't feel like skipping a meal today. She didn't want to have to hurry back to the library after supper, either, though - especially not since right now, she had a perfect seat. The words flowed from her mind onto the page smoothly and quickly, everything wrapping up smoothly as her characters Jack and Laurel got their hopeful ending, and then, just to be dramatic, just to make everything perfect for herself, she wrote the two words that she had, for a little while, doubted she'd ever write.

_The End._

It felt amazing to write. She set the quill down and stared at the last page, stunned by it. The handwriting was even more cramped and messy than usual, but she didn't care at all. She had finished her first draft - she had written a whole freaking novel, and she was only fifteen. The feeling of accomplishment that washed over her felt absolutely amazing, and - after making sure the ink was completely dry - she closed the book and hugged it to her chest. The hardest part was over, in her mind.

After all, she had the plot, she had the characters, she had the themes, she had the world...whatever editing and revising she had to do would seem like nothing after coming up with a whole novel. She couldn't help the stupid grin that stayed on her face as she gathered up her things, careful to put her novel in its own special pocket of her book bag. Lucy practically sprinted to the Great Hall, eager to tell the others - even Louis - that she had finally finished.

The Great Hall had already begun to fill up with students eagerly waiting for supper, and Lucy scanned the Hufflepuff table, searching for her cousins. It took a moment - she was short and the room was crowded - but finally she spotted them, and she hurried over, her steps light and carefree. Albus raised his eyebrows. "What happened, Luce?"

"I finished!" She pointed to her book bag. "I actually finished!" She felt like bouncing on the seats, like jumping on the table and screaming it to the whole Great Hall. She had actually written a whole _novel. _In a way, it almost felt like a 'take that' to her father and Molly - she _could _do something with her writing. If she could only get this published...if she could hurry up with editing, and maybe publish it sometime this year...

"Congrats," Louis said, a wide grin splitting his face. "Always knew you had it in you."

"Thanks," Lucy said as Al and Hugo also congratulated her. Louis was still grinning stupidly, that self-satisfied 'I told you so' look on his face. Half of her wanted to hug him, and the other half wanted to slap that stupid expression off of him. He had been the one to tell her that her writing was good and worthwhile, that she had true talent. In his own way, he had tried to help, even if his plan had pissed her off more than actually helped her. She supposed that she could forgive him - after all, he was her best friend, and she couldn't stay annoyed at him forever.

When supper was over, she and the others headed back to the common room, and Lucy instantly composed a letter, her quill flying over the page almost as quickly as it had when she had written her last page.

_Dear Dad_,

_Molly told me that you asked her to keep an eye on me - to spy on me, basically. Just so you know, I don't _want _to fail my OWLs. Just because I'm not a Ravenclaw, or just because I'm not completely obsessed with school, doesn't mean that I'm going to be an idiot and purposely slack off on things. I am going to study, thank you very much. And Molly also told me that she wasn't going along with your plan. She told me to do what I want. _

_I also thought I should tell you that I finished my novel. I haven't edited it - although I'm going to soon. It is a full-length novel, the sort found in stores, and I'm going to publish it when I'm satisfied that I'm done revising it. Multiple people at Hogwarts have read it and liked it, and considering that publishing in the Wizarding world is much easier than publishing in the Muggle world, I'm pretty hopeful that it'll be published. Imagine, me, published at fifteen - your slacker daughter. _

_I'm sorry if I'm coming off a little harsh. It's just...I'm not you, and I'm not Molly. I'm more like Mum, but I'm not her, either. I'm me - and I really hope that you can accept that, even if I'm not exactly what you want._

_-Lucy _

She tucked the letter into her book bag; she knew it would be a while before she worked up the courage to send it - if she did end up sending it. Either way, it felt good to get her thoughts down onto parchment - her real thoughts, not just her fictional ideas. Lucy put the letter in the same special compartment of her bag as her book, her fingers brushing against the spine of the book as she slipped the letter next to it.

If she ever needed to produce a Patronus, she knew exactly the memory she would use. The happiest memory of her life had been created today.


	22. Louis - November

_November 9, 2022 _

Louis stared at the letter in his hand, the words echoing in his brain many times over. He was well aware that the people surrounding him - namely Lucy, Hugo, and Al - were looking at him strangely, but he couldn't bring himself to care. It just felt weird, more than anything else, to look down and read those words. '_I've started going out with this bloke Eric from school. Hopefully you can meet him over the holiday! It's less than two months away. I can't wait.' _

It wasn't that he was jealous - or at least, he refused to let himself believe that. No, he wasn't jealous; it was merely strange and unexpected to hear. He had heard Michelle talk about the immaturity and idiocy of the boys at her school multiple times - about how they only wanted one thing, about how they cared about looks more than anything, about how inappropriate all of their behavior was. Because of how she criticized them, he figured that they disliked her as well. Michelle did have a habit of judging people based on her first impression of them, and he could see where that would be a bit off-putting to some people. Of course, Louis had never minded; Michelle had liked her first impression of him.

He tried to think about something else - tried to wipe the weird look off of his face - but those things were easier said than done. He wondered how he would react over the holidays when he went to meet Michelle - at her house, at the beach, whatever - and found her holding hands with this Eric bloke?

_Damn it. I am not jealous. Not one bit. It's simply...friendly concern. I would feel the same way if Lucy started dating somebody. _

"Are you all right?" Lucy practically leaned over the table. Apparently she had completely forgiven him now; he was glad of that, since she had been cool towards him for the past month. It felt good to have her concerned about him again, even if he didn't totally appreciate her prying right now.

"Yeah," he said. "I'm good."

Lucy narrowed her eyes at him, and he cursed that lie-detector ability that all girls seemed to have. Merlin, this didn't even have anything to do with her, and she was still prying. "Liar."

Louis stuffed the letter into his pocket and folded his arms. "I'm _fine,_" he said, just a little too loudly. A few students turned to look at him, and he gave them his best what-are-you-looking-at face. Which, of course, wasn't very good. Lily was much more experienced with that facial expression. "Look," he said in a more respectable tone of voice, "don't worry about me. I'm fine."

"It's that letter you got this morning, isn't it?" Hugo piped up from his seat beside Lucy.

"Who was it from?" Al asked.

"Nosy little shits, the lot of you," Louis said, right as Professor MacDougal walked by them. She backpedaled a few paces, and Louis felt heat rise in his cheeks. "Sorry, Professor."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that, Mr. Weasley," the professor said, massaging her forehead. "Don't let me catch you speaking like that again."

"I won't," Louis lied.

"Yeah," Hugo said after the teacher was out of earshot. "You won't...let her catch you."

"Oh, shut up," Louis mumbled, and Lucy lightly slapped Hugo upside the head.

"Boys!" she said in a manner reminiscent of Dominique or Aunt Hermione. "Did you see what Professor MacDougal looked like?"

Louis frowned, uncomprehending. "She looks the same as she always does. What, you want me to run after her and ask if those are new robes?"

Lucy rolled her eyes. "And you're calling _us _the little shits." Both Albus and Hugo snorted at that, and then Lucy continued. "_Anyway. _She looked awful - she had bags under her eyes, and she looked like she'd been up all night."

Louis snorted. _Lucy, you innocent little thing. _"Hate to break it to you, Luce, but I'm guessing Auror Vane came for a little visit." He waggled his eyebrows until Lucy until she threw a napkin at him; he ducked out of the way, and it landed on the floor behind him. He did not move to pick it up.

"You're a pervert," she said. "Anyway, I don't think it was that. I don't know _what _you've been doing, but even if Auror Vane came for a visit, Professor MacDougal would have at least gotten some sleep. Nobody goes all night long in real life. She would have at least caught a few hours, and she looked too exhausted even for that. Plus, didn't you notice the way she was walking - slowly and deliberately? She was obviously sore - shut _up, _Louis, I don't mean it like that."

"You're a regular Sherlock Holmes," Al said.

"I'm a writer. I observe." Lucy folded her arms. "I bet the Aurors called her last night."

"Why do they keep doing that?" Hugo asked. "I know she's still technically an Auror and stuff, but don't they have other people too? I mean, the other Aurors are more than capable."

"Because," Al said, to Louis's surprise - he had expected Lucy to answer. "She's right below my dad. He's head of the Auror Department, and she's the senior Auror. And with all of this Circle stuff, they want experienced people. People who've seen war before. I bet if they did call her in last night, something big happened with the Circle."

"If the _Daily Prophet _would just hurry up and get here..." Lucy frowned up at the ceiling. It was almost the end of breakfast before the owl finally dropped the paper onto Lucy's empty plate. She unfolded it, scanning the front page until she found something - which didn't take long. "Look at this," she said, spreading it out across the table and pointing to one of the front-page articles. "Last night, the Auror Department received an anonymous tip that the Nott family was involved with the Circle of Darkness."

Hugo glanced over at the Slytherin table. "One of the Nott girls is in my year."

"Well," Lucy continued, "the Auror Department planned a full-fledged raid on the house. That must have been what they called Professor MacDougal for, if I'm right about her being busy all night. But by the time they actually got inside, nobody was there - but there was enough information to indicate that Theodore Nott is indeed a member of the Circle. The Aurors are going crazy trying to find him."

"Wonder if Tori knows about her dad." Al nodded toward the Slytherin table now; Louis followed suit, looking towards the group of girls sitting next to Lily. He knew one of them was Tori Nott, although he didn't know which one. "What about Mrs. Nott, Luce? She in the Circle, too?"

Lucy shrugged. "Apparently the evidence is inconclusive, according to the paper. Of course, she's disappeared too, which doesn't do wonders for the possibility of her innocence. I'm guessing the Aurors will come by today to question the Nott girls, though. See if they know anything."

"Like they'd tell," Louis said, snorting.

Lucy frowned. "It isn't too ridiculous, Louis. I mean, if your parents were in trouble with the law, would you really help the Aurors find them? Any of us would stay loyal to our family, if the situation arose. You know it."

"Yeah, I know," Louis said. "But our parents aren't members of the New And Improved Death Eaters."

It was at that moment that breakfast ended, and it was time to go to the first class of the day. Louis collected his things and stood up, waiting for Lucy to come around the table so that they could head to classes together. Albus and Hugo - being in different years - both went off with their own roommates, and Louis and Lucy stuck together.

As they headed to their first class of the day, Louis's mind flopped back and forth between Michelle and the Circle. The information about the Circle of Darkness, and Nott's potential involvement, had been - in a way - nice; at least it had taken his mind off of the whole strange situation with Michelle. He didn't want to think about it too much; he still firmly wanted to believe that he wasn't jealous at all, because it was easier. After all, nothing could ever happen with Michelle anyway, since he was here at Hogwarts and she was back home.

He stuffed the letter even further into his pocket. Later on today, he would respond to it normally, telling her that he was happy for her and that he was looking forward to the holidays as well. He would tell her that of course he would meet Eric, and they all could hang out together - probably at Michelle's house, away from Louis's magical family. He would act as though everything was perfectly fine, because that was the simplest thing to do. He refused to admit, even to himself, the possibility of anything further.

He walked on, pushing all thoughts of Michelle out of his mind.


	23. Hugo - November

_November 13, 2022 _

Hugo headed toward the library, his now-light bag slapping against his side. He had gone to his dormitory and dropped off all of the day's books, replacing them with his own research material - all of which was much lighter than his textbooks. Either that, or it simply felt like it weighed less because he didn't mind it as much. In addition to the research material he had brought parchment, quills, and ink. Lucy had written her novel in order, from the beginning to the end; Hugo wasn't working like that. He wasn't even sure how he wanted to format his war history books yet. That wasn't even his strong point.

It hadn't even been his initial goal to write a book. He had first thought of simply researching everything he could find about the First and Second Wizarding Wars, and absorbing as much information as possible, but then Rose had shown him how pointless that seemed, and he had come up with the idea of writing a completely unbiased, in-depth book or set of books. It made sense. Almost all of the books written about the war were biased towards one side or the other, and there were very few that went as in-depth as possible. Hugo knew he could find more information; his family alone had enough war stories to write several books.

At the present moment, many of his cousins were visiting Victoire. Hugo had been invited, but he had declined the offer for a few reasons - first, that he could see Victoire at any time he wanted, and also that they weren't even particularly close anyway. The fact that there was a chance of Sylvia Nack being in the library also had something to do with it; he couldn't deny that.

Compared to some of the other Ravenclaws he had seen, Sylvia didn't spend a large amount of time in there. Hugo spent a disproportionate amount of time in the library, it seemed, and as a result he had begun paying attention to who else was in there with him. He noticed things. He noticed how Lily always took a table near the Restricted Section, even though the lighting over there was worse. He noticed how his sister, Al, and their two Slytherin friends would also always take one of those back tables, and spend more time talking than reading. And he noticed that Sylvia, for whatever reason, didn't hang out in the library that much.

That in itself wasn't necessarily odd. Despite the stereotype of Ravenclaws being library freaks, that wasn't necessarily true. While all Ravenclaws did possess a certain love of learning, that didn't always apply to reading a lot.

He did wonder, though, where Sylvia spent all of her time if she wasn't at the library. Her quiet demeanor made Hugo think that the common room would be a bit noisy for her; Hugo knew from experience it was often difficult to concentrate in the raucous common room.

He couldn't help but be curious. Sylvia had, after that first occasion, asked him about his project on two different days. She was really the first person who had shown genuine interest in it, for reasons that had nothing to do with being familial. It was a wonderful feeling to find someone who was actually curious about what he was doing; it was a feeling he was not accustomed to having.

Once at the library, he casually walked around, seeing if Sylvia was there anywhere. "Damn it," he muttered, and as he was leaving, not watching where he was going, he nearly collided with a smaller girl. _Sylvia. _Cursing his own clumsiness, he straightened up. "Sorry," he said, and she smiled softly.

"Don't worry about it," she said, her voice gentle - as always. She never seemed to raise her voice; he had never seen her get angry or even passionate about anything, either in class or outside of it, and he had taken to paying attention to her. At times he felt vaguely stalker-like when he observed her, but he reminded himself that he didn't keep track of his observations, and he never watched her doing anything inappropriate.

Sylvia was also carrying a bag, and Hugo could see a Muggle-style notebook peeking out of it. His curiosity spiked, and he pointed to it. "Sorry to be nosy," he said, "but what's that for?" Nobody ever used Muggle-style notebooks at Hogwarts for their school subjects. For the most part, note-taking in class wasn't particularly important, since most of the material was found in the textbook anyway; the only necessary thing to write down was the homework assignment, and maybe a couple things that weren't in the book. As a result, spare parchment was suitable, even for the Muggle-born students.

"What - oh. That." Sylvia blushed, the color standing out sharply against her light skin. For a moment she hesitated, and Hugo figured that she wasn't going to show him; finally, she pulled the notebook out and handed it to him. Adjusting the position of his own bag, he flipped through the notebook. It was the kind without lines, so that the pages were completely blank, and Sylvia had taken advantage of that to draw.

She really was quite talented, he found. Almost all of her sketches were of people, which was impressive enough; all of the people's bodies were well-drawn. What surprised and impressed Hugo even more, however, was what they were wearing. The people - both male and female - were dressed in unusual outfits that, to Hugo, looked almost like a blend of Wizarding and Muggle fashion. The outfits, while different, weren't ugly, and by all means were certainly creative and well-thought-out. "Wow," Hugo said, passing the notebook back to Sylvia. "That's really cool."

Sylvia blushed again. "Thanks." She tucked the notebook back into her bag, pulling the straps tighter this time so that the contents of the bag couldn't be seen to anybody else.

"So are you going to do something like that, then? Fashion design?"

"I want to." Sylvia smiled. "I love drawing, and designing, and sewing. I've made a couple things that I've designed - all that free time this summer, you know?" She still spoke more quietly than most students, but she was growing more animated, her facial expression happier, her eyes brighter. "You really think it's cool?"

"Yeah," Hugo answered, completely truthful. "You're really good."

She practically looked like she was glowing. Hugo wondered if her artwork had ever been complimented before. He couldn't imagine why, if it hadn't been; she was honestly good, and that wasn't just because he was slightly biased in her favor. Perhaps she hadn't shown anybody else. He wondered if there would be stigma in Ravenclaw against becoming a fashion designer, since it wasn't a traditionally 'smart' or 'academic' job. Hugo didn't know the inner workings of Ravenclaw well enough, and he probably didn't want to. "Thank you so much," Sylvia replied. She leaned over and quickly hugged Hugo before disappearing inside the library.

For a moment, he just stood there, relishing the moment. He had just had a conversation with a girl who wasn't related to him. Admittedly, the conversation was short, but still. She had willingly talked to him - willingly shared something about herself, even. And then she had hugged him. That excited him more than he thought it probably should. Did he fancy Sylvia? Maybe - he did seem to enjoy her company a little too much, and the observing (he still refused to call it 'stalking', because it wasn't) also suggested such a thing.

He supposed there were worse things in the world. Sylvia was, in the grand scheme of things, quite normal, and he supposed fancying her was probably as good an idea as any. She showed a slight interest in him, at least - even if it was platonic, that platonic interest was still more than any of his past crushes had ever paid him in terms of attention.

Hugo finally decided to leave before she came out again and found him standing there, daydreaming like an idiot. He stopped by the Hufflepuff common room and dropped his bag off at the dormitory, deciding to meet up with the others at Victoire's office. By the time he got there, though, nobody but Lily was left, and getting interrogated by Lily was not number one on his list of things he wanted to do.

He knew she would notice that there was something different about him, and she'd ask him about it. For the time being, he didn't want to tell anybody about Sylvia. There was one main drawback to fancying somebody; everybody insisted on teasing, and that certainly got old. He had seen enough of it between his cousins, and experienced it in previous years. This time, he would be smart and keep his mouth shut. This time, he wouldn't say anything - at least, until something happened, if something did happen.

He knew that if something ever did happen between him and Sylvia, after all, that he wouldn't be able to keep his mouth shut.


	24. Lily - November

_November 17, 2022 _

Few things, Lily found, were more satisfactory than sneaking into Honeydukes.

The passageway that led from the one-eyed witch statue to Honeydukes wasn't completely secret knowledge, like it had been during Lily's father's time at Hogwarts. In the Battle of Hogwarts, groups of students and fighters had been assigned to protect all entrances to the castle - including the secret passageways. As a result, the passage into Honeydukes wasn't completely secret anymore, and there was often a prefect or teacher who just happened to hang around that area.

That was relatively easy for Lily to get around, however. She wore the Invisibility Cloak, and her small stature allowed it to cover her completely. Once the busybody patroller had disappeared around the corner, she simply tapped the one-eyed witch's statue, whispered "_Dissendium," _and then jumped into the resulting opening, Invisibility Cloak and all. It was a short process that took only a couple seconds; by the time the patroller returned, Lily was long gone.

The Honeydukes side was a slightly different matter. Due to ethical and moral reasons - things that annoyed Lily slightly, at least in this instance - the presence of the passageway had been revealed to the Honeydukes employees, so they could do what they wished with the knowledge. To Lily's delight, they didn't board up the passage; she suspected it was for safety reasons, in case such a passage was ever needed. Of course, that didn't mean they didn't protect it; the store now employed somebody to work in the basement, supposedly 'cataloguing stock' or some other dull job, although Lily knew the real idea was to have somebody down there, keeping an eye on the passage.

That part was a little more difficult, but even that wasn't impossible. She carefully inched the trapdoor open, just enough to peek out and see the employee with his back to her, standing a good ten feet away from the trapdoor. Thanks to her careful ministrations earlier in the year, the trapdoor was completely silent, and it wasn't a difficult task to open that. Climbing out was slightly trickier, since Lily had to be completely silent as well, but she had enough experience with that to make her way out of the tunnel and into the actual basement; from there, she merely slipped upstairs and into the store, which was bustling.

She could have gone the normal way. There was absolutely no reason why she needed to sneak through the basement of a candy store to get to Hogsmeade. She had written permission from her parents, and she hadn't done anything to get her privileges taken away. There was just something thrilling about sneaking around like that, something exciting about the risk of getting caught. It was fun, plain and simple, and she lightly sighed as she stepped out of Honeydukes, still wearing the Cloak, and ducked around the side of the building to remove it.

Slipping the Invisibility Cloak into her bag, Lily headed to the Three Broomsticks, where Autumn had suggested that they meet. As always, that, too, was heavily crowded with students. Looking around, Lily sighed; it was terribly crowded now, in November, when it wasn't even that cold out, and there was no snow on the ground. What would happen to this place when it actually started to get cold outside?

Lily's musings were interrupted by Autumn, who had somehow managed to get a booth that gave them a bit more privacy than the normal tables. Two Butterbeers - one of them only two-thirds full, the other near to overflowing - sat on the table, and Lily and Autumn slid into opposite sides. Lily reached for the full Butterbeer. "Thanks," she said.

"You owe me," Autumn said, although she didn't sound completely serious. "Anyway, I wanted to ask you something."

Lily sipped the Butterbeer. "Go ahead."

"You think your parents would let you come over for a little while during Christmas holidays?"

Lily nodded. "Yeah. Of course." Autumn - and most of Lily's Slytherin friends - seemed to share a common belief: that Lily's family disapproved of her being placed in Slytherin, and therefore disapproved of all Slytherin connections. Lily had gotten asked a ridiculous number of times what her parents would think of something, or if they would approve of something, or if they would let her do something. It had gotten irritating pretty quickly. For the most part they had all stopped, but it still occasionally popped up.

Autumn raised her eyebrows before taking a long swig of Butterbeer. "Even with the Circle?"

That raised a slightly better point, considering Autumn's father's occupation. Geoffrey Vaisey was indeed an Unspeakable, and the Circle had shown marked interest in the Department of Mysteries and its workers. Having an Unspeakable and the daughter of Harry Freaking Potter under the same roof was a little risky, but Lily just shrugged. "They don't know your dad's an Unspeakable, I think. And I'm sure as hell not going to tell them."

The next several minutes were spent making plans. It was finally decided that Lily would come over Autumn's house on the twenty-seventh of December, to give them both time to spend Christmas with their families. Lily, despite her occasional complaints about the cheesier, 'lamer' parts of Christmas celebrations, couldn't help but enjoy the Weasley-Potter Christmas celebration, which was always loud and bustling and crazy. At one particularly epic Christmas party she had roped nearly all of her cousins and both her siblings into a loud argument over which house was the best, which had then disintegrated into a ten-person chase throughout the house and into the yard.

Lily knew Autumn wanted to spend Christmas - or at least Christmas Eve and Christmas Day - with her family as well. Autumn's mother had run out on them, and due to Geoffrey Vaisey's intense work schedule - and intense dedication to work - Autumn had been left in a protective, motherly role towards her younger sister Lissie, who was nine or ten years old, Lily thought. Making sure Lissie had a good Christmas would definitely be on the top of Autumn's list, even if she wouldn't admit it to anybody.

Once the official plans were made, Autumn asked, "What took you so long, anyway?" She looked pointedly at Lily's Butterbeer, which was still a great deal fuller than Autumn's own, which was nearly finished.

"I took an alternate route," Lily said airily.

"The Honeydukes thing?" Autumn kept her voice low, only loud enough for Lily to hear. "Really?"

"Yep." Lily grinned. "You know, you have to try it sometime. It's fun."

"Yeah, sometime," Autumn said. Lily knew it wouldn't happen anytime soon. Autumn wasn't exactly a strict rule-follower either, but her rule-breaking was limited more to offenses such as coming in late, not finishing homework, violating the dress code, and talking back to teachers. She rarely planned out pranks since she didn't have the sort of mind to come up with schemes, and she didn't see the point in sneaking around for no reason. Lily, on the other hand, adored strolling about the castle at midnight and using the passageways, with no excuse other than that she thought it was fun. "How's your matchmaking scheme going, anyway?"

"Horrible," Lily said glumly. She had been so focused on her Halloween prank that she had barely had time to think of anything else. The Halloween prank had gone perfectly according to plan; nobody had been caught, and it hadn't been traced back to anybody, either. Even Rose had - surprisingly - kept her mouth shut. The professors had all been stumped, and had asked the student body to come to them if they found out any information, but Lily had chosen her helpers wisely. It was over two weeks later, and not a single person had squealed.

The focus on the Great Halloween Debacle, however, had taken her mind off of other things - like Roxanne and Alexandra. She still wanted to help them to get together. Roxanne was, in all likelihood, her favorite cousin, for multiple reasons. She had been the first relative to tell Lily that being in Slytherin was perfectly fine, and as a result Lily had felt a certain attachment to her after that. Roxanne was one of the few people that Lily was willing to do nice things for, even without getting anything in return.

Lily looked at Autumn hopefully. "You have any ideas?"

Autumn snorted. "I told you I'd try to think of something. _Try. _You know that I suck at coming up with plots and plans and schemes. That's way more your area of expertise." She waved the server over and ordered another Butterbeer. "I'll help you implement your plan, if you need me. But think of one? No chance in hell."

"I know," Lily said. She hadn't truly expected Autumn to be able to come up with something, but it had been worth a shot. "Damn it. I'm so not used to matchmaking."

"Hmm," Autumn said. "I do have an idea. It's kind of stupid, and I'm pretty sure it's from a book or something, but -"

"Let's hear it."

"You send a note to each of them. The note says something like 'Hey, will you meet me at whatever time, whatever place, etc.? I think you're cute and I'd like to go out with you.' Then you wait for them both to show up. It'll probably initiate an awkward conversation, at the least."

It was Lily's turn to say, "Hmm." She ran her hand through her hair. Autumn was right; her idea certainly wasn't brilliant or original, but it was simple, and at the moment, Lily liked the sound of that. It was hard to come up with schemes for a good cause. She was much more used to coming up with plots for revenge or mischief, to get somebody back for something or just an innocent, amusing prank on Gryffindors or professors. This wasn't exactly her area of expertise.

Now, though, she had a basis. If she could base her plan and ideas off of Autumn's, then that just might work. She grinned across the table as she, too, finished her Butterbeer and set the cup down with a loud noise. "This just might work," she said, and she honestly felt that she was correct.


End file.
